


Sparrow Song

by LittlexSheep



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Backstory, Drug Use, Like there's a lot of sexual content but it's not all nice, Loss of Parent(s), Minor Character Death, Multi, Nasty Things Involving Piss, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Painkillers, Promiscuous teenagers, Prostitution, Sex as a major theme, Sexual Abuse, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-01-05 12:30:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 42,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12190035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlexSheep/pseuds/LittlexSheep
Summary: [Alternate title: Genji Loses His Gay Virginity and It Fucks Everything Up]Genji Shimada's life revolves around sex. It brought him into this world and if he's not careful, it may very well take him out of it.A Learning the Ropes AU fic: Genji's backstory.





	1. Hanamura

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Learning the Ropes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10933710) by [Purely_a_trashcan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purely_a_trashcan/pseuds/Purely_a_trashcan). 



> Big warning right now: Some sexual activity happens before Genji is a legal adult in either country. If that makes you uncomfortable, maybe skip this one. There will also be some darker themes in the next few chapters that might make some uncomfortable. This is not a happy story. Please take note of the tags, updated with every chapter.
> 
> Anyway, now that that's said.
> 
> This work is based off of Purely-A-Trashcan's Learning the Ropes AU. This work could be read as a standalone for the first few chapters, but I would recommend you brush up on that AU if you're interested to know what's happening the rest of the way.
> 
> I've been working on this for a while now. It became a much bigger project than expected. And it took me forever to write (I'm technically /still/ writing it). So I hope you enjoy it.

Being introduced to his fiancé-to-be was the last thing Genji had expected today. Especially considering he had been sound asleep, sprawled out in someone else’s bed across town when he got the call to come home. He had almost fallen back in bed with the two girls that pawed at him while he got dressed, held back only by the text alerting him the car sent for him had arrived and the impatient driver honking outside. 

The girl was pretty enough. Long black hair that reached her waist, big cute eyes with a button nose and a small pink mouth underneath, the corners perked up like a cartoon’s smile. She had a penchant for pink; the clip holding her bangs back, the small but stylish earrings in her ears, even the handle of the small knife hidden poorly in her kimono. All were pink pink pink.

“This is Fujiwara Kimiko, third born daughter of the Fujiwara estate. You will entertain her this afternoon,” Sojiro had announced, his hand dropping from her shoulder to gently persuade her forward to him by the small of her back. “We are hopeful for a union between our families. Please show her respect.”

Genji got along with her surprisingly well. She was as feisty as he was, most likely the burden of her family as Genji was to his. They climbed on the roof together when they were given privacy, her kimono coming undone from its tight hold on her as she boasted her agility. She had ended up in jean shorts and a black tank top a smidge too short for her torso, worn underneath the silken kimono she had ended up tossing to her attendants below. Genji had laughed, amused that they had awaited catching the material as though they had expected her to escape it so soon. She reminded Genji of himself: bored by tradition, on the constant lookout for a fun time, loud and brash with her thoughts. 

They had ended up sitting or walking along the roof until the sun made its descent. For the first time all day, the two were not laughing or joking loudly. They watched the sun set together, side by side on the temple roof. Genji did not move away when she leaned against his side and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Hey, do you know? They expect us to get married. I thought I would not like you. They called you the family disgrace, sleeping around and drinking every night. I thought they meant you were some abusive fat drunk, not a fun guy. But my family wouldn’t know fun if it struck them in the eye.” Genji snorted, wrapping an arm around her instinctively. Kimiko hummed in approval, leaning into his side more. “I would not mind being married to you. I don’t really care about what they’ve told me. You can be faithful after the wedding day. Until now, I could not clip the wings of a sparrow like myself so soon.”

Genji was impressed by her, he could not deny it. He had always figured Hanzo would be the one with the arranged marriage, but now, at 17 soon to be 18, Genji would be the one to have a fiancé. A fun fiancé his own age, at that. 

Genji kissed her goodbye at the large protective gates to the Shimada complex after the dinner hosted for the members of the Fujiwara clan that had accompanied Kimiko. The kiss was mostly for show. They both knew the eyes of their families watched them closely, desperate for their union, hoping one might calm the other. Foolish wishes. 

“Ja ne~” She called out to him cutely before getting in the backseat of her family car. Her kimono was rumpled but appropriate again. Her attendants had not had much time before dinner to redress her in the formalwear. Genji was grinning wide the whole time, waving until the car was out of sight. Hanzo appeared at his side, cocking an eyebrow in disbelief. A common look for him.

“So that’s it? Just like that, the playboy Shimada Genji has been tamed? No more random hookups? No more sexting and inappropriate pictures? No more wild party nights and drunken conquests?” Genji gave Hanzo a thoughtful look before breaking out in laughter, slapping at his older brother’s back like he had told the joke of the year. 

“Fuck no! Kimi-chan’s cool. She doesn’t care about any of that.” Genji grinned wider, hands shoved in his pockets.

“She doesn’t know you’re…promiscuous, then?” Hanzo questioned, though it wasn’t in malice. Genji was known across the city for his nightly activities, and he was aware of the notice. He called it popularity; Hanzo had many other words for it.

“Hanzo, I’m young and without duties. I have to get my fill before I honor Kimi-chan’s request of loyalty after marriage. Until then, I’m going to go out tonight, like I will every night, and find someone else’s bed to stay warm in.” Genji smirked, turning to walk back into the castle. “Oh, and she absolutely knows I am a slut,” he calls out as an afterthought. Hanzo scoffs loudly, only fueling his brother’s cockiness. 

 

\---

 

Genji had only enjoyed female company up to this point. His lustful thoughts had never strayed to the same sex before. Sure, he teased and joked with his male groupies, but none of them were looking to be serious about any of that. Sometimes he got drunk and made out with a few of the guys, but it was only a show for the girls. And Genji surely meant nothing by it all.

But now here he was, still leaning against the bar, talking to the guy sitting on the stool to his left. He had bounced up to the bar for another drink, having somehow downed his while he had been dancing between a group of girls eagerly pressing against him as they moved. Genji had not expected to stay there long, but the handsome man had asked to buy it for him and it would be rude to leave now, right? 

Genji supposed the guy was handsome. He had never thought about another guy’s looks before. He was usually too busy making sure his own looks were flawless. This man had an air of superiority to him that wasn’t off-putting. His hair was a bit longer than Genji’s own, dark brown and pushed back loosely. The olive complexion, just a shade or two darker than most Genji had seen, complemented it well. His eyes looked soft and tired in a way that made them welcoming, a lighter brown than his hair. The hair growing on his face was thin and soft but obviously still well-groomed. Genji would have to place him as a few years older, but not many. Maybe Hanzo’s age.

“I’ve never had a guy offer to buy me a drink. Normally I’m the one buying them for others,” Genji had said as he waited for his drink, smiling mischievously at the stranger. The alluring grin on the other’s face rooted him to where he stood, his interest in holding this conversation skyrocketing with his response.

“I am charmed to be your first, then. Maybe I can be your first in some other ways tonight.”

Genji’s groupies had been pouty and upset when he announced he was leaving, but their pleas for him to stay meant nothing compared to the promise of something new and exciting that lie with his mystery man. He slid into the passenger side of the man’s rental car, skin almost buzzing with anticipation.

“I hope you do not think I am a creep for taking you to a hotel,” the man admitted, his smile good-humored, “I flew in a day early and my family did not have a room ready for me to stay in with them. Though I suppose I am more relieved to take you to a hotel than sneak you around my family’s home.” 

Genji had laughed with the sentiment. “I understand. I prefer not to take people to my family’s home either. This is fine.” Genji felt bold, sliding a hand up the man’s leg as he drove. He reveled in the visible bob of his adam’s apple as he swallowed dryly at Genji’s advancing touches. Making a girl swoon was easy. He had never tried his charms on a man before.

It was not unusual to have little to no foreplay where Genji Shimada was concerned. The teasing and purring had always been enough for him and whoever his companion for the night ended up being. So ending up naked in a hotel room so quickly did not bother him one bit. He only paused once, when a gentle shove sent him onto his back on the bed. 

“Ah, I should let you know, I have never… done this. With a man. I’m usually with a woman, and—“ 

His nervous stammer was cut off by a roll of pretty brown eyes and fingers pressed against his lips. “Stop babbling. I will not hurt you. I promised to be your first in a few ways tonight, didn’t I?”

And he was.

Genji had not really known what to expect from his tryst tonight, but he had not expected to end up with a cock in his mouth. Then again, after a particularly heated moment of making out and rutting against the leg of the body above him, he had asked very suddenly if he could try it. His lover for the night had almost seemed like he had planned on it, getting Genji down on his knees by the bed faster than Genji could process it all.

Through his first taste of precome, an attempt at suppressing his gag reflex, and all the way to feeling his jaw slightly ache, all he could wonder is if it was like this for the women he had been with. If so, it was a lot more work taking dick than he had realized. He thought that even when he was back on the bed, watching the man rummage through his luggage for lube and a condom. Bottoming wasn’t what he had envisioned – he was used to being the one fucking, after all – but the whispered praise and assurances had him feeling very willing to try.

The tensing muscles couldn’t be helped when the first slick finger finally breached him. It felt… weird! Unnatural! And yet there was something in the back of his mind that made him want to continue. Once he relaxed, the finger slipped in to the knuckle more easily than he had imagined it would have. His breathing hitched when the finger pulled back, and a second one nudged its way in beside it. The strange new sensation of being stretched was uncomfortable, until it wasn’t. Then it gave way to something much nicer. 

Genji was a shaking mess by the time the two fingers had ceased their scissoring and his body allowed a third, filling him in a way he didn’t know he could feel before. His eyes closed against the sensation, allowing himself to feel loose and pliant as the fingers pumped in and out. He was panting as his release seemed closer and closer, his back arching and muscles tightening. A whine ripped out of him when the fingers were suddenly gone, his eyes snapping open. 

The man chuckled at him, planting a warm kiss to his neck as he moved further over him. “Not so soon…” was murmured against his skin. Genji let out a gasp, feeling the head of the man’s cock bump heavily into the loosened rim of his hole. He bit his lip, willing the whimpers escaping him to cease. The body above his own presses close, gripping his shoulders gently. A whisper of warning brushed past his ear, and he was sunk into in one smooth and slow push of hips. 

Gentle fingers cupped his face, and Genji released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His lips smash clumsily up against the other’s, digging his nails into his back as his companion started to rock his hips. It didn’t take long for Genji’s orgasm to hit, his body oversensitive from the new sensations, mewling and squirming slightly as the man above him chased his own pleasure with his body.

Genji accepted a drag off the cigarette lit shortly after they lay together in silence, spent. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed between his own orgasm and his partner’s. It had all been a pleasurable, delirious blur. He couldn’t help his laugh as he exhaled the smoke, passing the cigarette back over, enjoying the nicotine rush. He was amused to feel like he was experiencing the other side, especially when he was the one curling up against the warm body next to him. 

A thought passes his mind before he can fall asleep, jerking him awake just enough to voice it. “I never got your name,” Genji rasps out, his voice scratchy from all the gasping and heavy breaths in the past hour. He swats weakly at the teasing hand that finds his nipple, despite the interest his dick shows with a twitch. A chuckle rumbles out from the body he’s plastered against.

“Fujiwara Takeshi. Isn’t that the first thing you should learn about a person?” Genji doesn’t join in his laughter, frozen and fully awake now.

“Fujiwara… of the Fujiwara clan?”

He gets a raised eyebrow, though the smile remains. “Yes, the very same.”

Genji is quiet for a while, fidgeting with the comforter that’s been pulled over them. Takeshi pays it no mind, turning over and falling asleep easily. Genji can’t help the comfort he finds in a warm body against him, despite who he now knows it is. He still has difficulty falling asleep beside him anyway.

Kimiko doesn’t have to know. She’ll never find out. She may have been okay with his indulgences in the bedroom, but he was pretty sure he just fucked his future brother-in-law, and she may not be so okay with that.

 

Genji slept fitfully, if even at all, finally giving up just past 4 am. Redressing himself in last night’s clothes, he snuck out of the hotel room as quietly as possible. He got no further than the street outside the hotel’s front before realizing his motorbike was still at the club a few miles away. After a groan and some contemplation, Genji whips out his cell phone and calls his brother. 

Half an hour later Genji looks up from his phone from where he sits on the sidewalk, smiling wide at the rider on his beloved green and chrome Ninja motorbike. The driver does not return the smile when the helmet is removed, scowling at the younger man.

“I hate driving your death machine. You owe me.” Hanzo tosses the extra helmet to his brother as he approaches, not making a move to release the driver’s position. Genji sticks his tongue out, flipping the visor up on the helmet before placing it on his head. 

“Nii-san!” Hanzo rolls his eyes at the cutesy title, grunting when Genji slings himself unceremoniously onto the seat behind him and squeezes his middle tight with his arms. “Thank you for picking me up. You’re my favorite older brother.” 

Hanzo gets back at him for his least favorite compliment by replacing his helmet and taking off suddenly when Genji is busying himself with adjusting his own helmet and visor. The high pitched scream he can barely hear over the engine’s rev is worth it. 

“You will spar with me to make up for interrupting my training this morning,” Hanzo told him when they were safely back home, tossing Genji’s keys to him. Genji scoffed, following him to the living quarters of the family castle. 

“You are the only one I know who’s up this early! Not even Father rises this early anymore.” Genji runs abruptly into his brother’s broad back when Hanzo stops moving forward through the hallway of their own wing. “Jeez, what?”

Hanzo turns, crossing his arms as he studies his brother. “Genji. You know his health has been failing lately, correct?” Genji’s face falls into a neutral mask, a family trait even he can display at times. It’s been the Shimada defense against emotional situations for generations.

“He’s fine, Hanzo. Father is a strong man. He’s just getting older. You need to stop worrying about him.” It’s no secret to anyone that Genji is a daddy’s boy. He’s clung to his father’s yukata for as long as anyone on the Shimada grounds can remember. The elders eventually shooed him away from his Father when his need for attention got in the way of business, just as they shooed him away from Hanzo when his older brother began to take on family responsibilities. Sojiro still treats him like a spoiled child, laughing off the complaints of the elders and greeting his son with delight the rare times he gets to see him now. Genji has always been Sojiro’s Sparrow, flighty and cheerful. Just like his mother, he would tell him often.

The elder brother huffed air from his nose. He had tried to get it through Genji’s head that their father did not have much more time left, but the younger was adamant that he was fine. Their father was invincible, powerful. He could not fall so easily to the sickness slowly claiming his strength. Hanzo turns suddenly, grunting in impatience. 

“Get in your training gear. You owe me a sparring session.” 

Genji groaned after him, “Right now? I’ve barely slept!”

 

\---

 

The position they were in was a strain on his neck, and his sore muscles from sparring this morning protested the awkward angle, but by the way she was starting to squirm and grab at his hair, it was nearly over. Wait, what was her name? It was one of those American girls hanging with his group lately. What… Laura? Hazel? Some pretty sounding name she liked to hear him say. He had barely finished his first drink when she got him alone at this house party. Genji wasn’t sure what she expected, but he supposed it wasn’t her with her back against the wall and him on his knees with his head under her skirt. He steadied her hips with strong, lightly calloused hands, redoubling his mouth’s efforts as she started to cry out.

Luckily for her, but unfortunately for the erection straining against his zipper, she had finally reached her peak when they started to hear his name called outside the door of whatever dark room she had pulled him into. Genji groaned, standing to wrench the door beside them open just enough to stick his head out and glare at the intruder. His friend Ken stood outside the door, blinking in surprise.

“What?” Genji hissed, ignoring the cooling slick on and around his mouth, “I’m busy.” He couldn’t help but smirk at Ken’s blush, tilting his head. “Ken-chan,” he sang out, “if you don’t tell me what you want soon, you’re going to have to come in here and participate until you remember why you’re bothering me in the first place.” Ken sputtered at that, averting his eyes. Had Ken always been so cute? He was always so shy and loyal. Genji wondered what he would look like, coming apart and moaning. Ken was a big, solid guy, despite his meekness. He surely had a huge cock to match. Laura’s—er, Hazel’s?—whimpering and panting next to him brought him back from his imaginings. His hand had found her still soaking wet cunt in the dark, his fingers causing obscene noises both from under her skirt and her mouth. 

“G-Genji-kun,” Ken managed to sputter out, staring at his shoes, “There’s, ah, a girl downstairs asking about you.” Genji rolled his eyes, giving Ken a fed up look.

“Ken-chan, many girls ask about me. You know this. Is this girl somehow more important than the one my fingers are inside of right now?” Genji was a little glad Laura—fuck, Hazel? He should have paid more attention—wasn’t fluent in Japanese or she might have been a bit offended to hear them speak so frankly. 

Ken shuffled uncomfortably at the soft panting moans escaping the room he was outside of. “Ah, maybe? She said to give you her name if I found you: Fujiwara Kimiko?” 

Genji blinked, withdrawing his hand from the warmth it was exploring. “She’s here? Kimi-chan’s here?” He stuck his fingers in his mouth, cleaning them off quickly before snaking out of the room, ignoring the girl’s confused ‘hey!’ as he left her behind. Ken gave the door a double take, calling out an ‘ah, sorry!’ before following Genji down the hallway towards the stairs.

“Wait, wait,” Ken called, tugging Genji by his arm to a bathroom in the same hallway, “you should probably clean up if this woman is important.” Genji blinked at the bright bathroom light, accepting the washcloth handed to him. He laughed and wet it in the sink, quickly wiping off his messy chin. He washed his hands and dried them, eyeing Ken as he turned around.

“Thank you, Ken-chan. You’re always looking out for me,” Genji purred, surprising his friend and himself by pressing his body against him. “What would I do without you?” He definitely couldn’t blame this on being drunk; he had barely gotten to drink yet tonight. But Ken seemed receptive, his hands going to Genji’s sides reflexively. Genji leaned in to kiss him, feeling emboldened, when one of the hands moved away and was suddenly pressing a tin of mints to his lips. 

“Your breath still smells like her,” Ken muttered with a small smile, eyes looking away as usual. Genji laughed and accepted the tin, popping two of the strong mints into his mouth. 

“Maybe it can smell like you later instead,” Genji remarked easily, sliding out of the bathroom before Ken could see his reddening face. Ugh, that was his worse line yet. He _really_ needed a drink if he was going to have Ken at his side all night. Which he usually did. Genji had chewed up and spit out so many personal bodyguards that his family had decided it was better to trust his many friends to watch his back instead of a hired hand. Ken was large and intimidating enough to keep unwanted company away, and had managed to keep the drunken fights Genji would accidentally start down to a minimum. They had been friends for so long. Why was it only now he felt an urge to pursue him?

Genji took the stairs two at a time, hearing Ken’s footsteps close behind. He went to the kitchen immediately, getting a drink from the host. Beer was the only offered drink, which was disappointing. Something stronger would be appreciated right now. 

“I found you!” a familiar cheery voice sang in his ear, coupled with a pair of slim arms wrapping around his middle. Kimiko’s cute cartoon smile, painted a bright pink tonight, came into view as she pressed herself into his side, leaning her head on his shoulder. Genji smiled down at her, pulling her closer. “Sorry I didn’t text you. My brother came home today and we were catching up. Maybe we can all go eat together tomorrow, though?”

“Your brother, huh?” Genji responded dumbly, hoping he didn’t look as nervous as he felt. He had nearly forgotten about his partner last night. Though it wasn’t exactly a forgettable experience. He had woken up this afternoon thinking about it with conflicted feelings. Most of which was regret… that he hadn’t gotten his number before sneaking out. “Sure, that would be fine.”

They spent the rest of the night glued to each other’s side—not by Genji’s choice, but it would be rude to extricate himself from her if he was expected to eventually marry this girl. They had been asked several times if they were a couple, to which they had no real answer. Kimiko seemed as indifferent to calling themselves an item as he was. Kimiko had finally left when her friends complained about being ready to leave to her. She gave him an apologetic smile, kissing his cheek.

“Until tomorrow, right?” 

“Right. Good night,” Genji murmured, gently turning her face so he could give her a real kiss. Her friends made gagging noises when it was held for longer than expected. Kimiko broke from the kiss, finally, and stuck her tongue out at them, following them out the door. Genji waved after her, finishing off his drink quickly. She was a cute girl, very cute. Genji liked her just fine. It almost made him feel bad he had been reminiscing about her brother’s cock the whole night. Speaking of cock…

“Ken-chan,” he called out to his friend, who had reappeared by his side, “take me home.” 

“Too drunk to drive? You would have to leave your bike again. You were already griping about Hanzo-sama picking you up on it this morning—“ Ken is cut off by Genji pulling him close by the front of his shirt, his eyes darkened with lustful intent.

“Ken-chaaan,” Genji whined softly, pouting up at the larger man, “Take me home. With _you_. And you can take me back here to pick it up tomorrow morning, huh?” 

Ken blinked, once, twice, then finally found his voice again. “Oh. Yeah. We can do that.”

 

Either Ken was too much of a gentleman or Genji hadn’t been aggressive enough in his campaign to conquer his dick, but it took forever to get him to realize that Genji was asking for more than just a place to crash for the night. Ken still lived with his parents, as did all of the people Genji’s age, so when Ken finally understood and very nervously complied, they had to be quiet. Which was difficult for Genji considering he very much loved to be noisy in bed. Though tonight he wanted to make noise for how difficult it actually was to take someone as thick as Ken was. He had been a bit too ambitious, especially considering the only lubrication they had to use was the pre-lubed condom Ken had in his bedside drawer. And it wasn’t quite enough, though he did finally manage to settle his plump ass against Ken’s hips after a valiant effort. Genji had a new respect for the girls who liked to be on top. It was a workout to say the least.

Genji still felt the burn in his thighs when Ken dropped him off at the house where he had left his bike last night. As nervous, yet absolutely excited, as Ken had been last night underneath him, he seemed much more confident in accepting a farewell kiss from his friend. Genji had apologized for making things awkward between them, even as he snuggled up post-orgasm to Ken, but the large man had only shrugged and pulled him closer. The younger Shimada felt fortunate that Ken didn’t seem the jealous type. Goodness knows how many girls were still angry with him for his fleeting nature. He moved on quickly and he didn’t stay attached very long. For now, anyway. He had just never really met anyone who held his interest for very long.

Kimiko was going to have to be that person someday, whether or not Genji would really feel that way. Marrying her was his last real chance to stay in his family’s graces. He had a large sexual appetite that never seemed sated (and his growing curiosity to try cock was only making it worse), but he didn’t admire cheating. Which was probably why he was never interested in actually dating. He knew himself. One person had never been enough. Though one person was on his mind, and it wasn’t his fiancé-to-be.

Genji mentally cursed himself, pulling up on his bike to the Shimada residence. He had only started his thoughts on Takeshi again. He was doomed, there would be no marriage once he met with them later today. Takeshi would recognize who Genji was and spill their recent one night stand to Kimiko. She would never want to see him again and then… well, then what? It wasn’t like he was really into the idea of getting married. Not so soon, anyway. Would it really be so bad to ruin this?

He turned his head to the sound of his father calling to him from the small family shrine. For a rare moment, he was alone. No elders crowding him, no nurses, not even Hanzo was around him. Genji smiled, half-jogging over to Sojiro. It was rare he could enjoy his father’s company anymore. Everyone pushed him away from his father except for Sojiro himself. 

Sojiro smiled wide when his son approached, and Genji knew. This was why he had to ensure the marriage happened. His father was counting on him to benefit the family in some way. If a marriage with the Fujiwara clan was how he thought Genji should do that, he needed to see it through. For his father, if not for the Shimada clan itself. 

Genji sat with his father, in proper seiza, even, for a while in the shrine. Sojiro had lit incense for his late wife. Genji had fidgeted at bare minimum, listening to his father speak fondly of his mother, sometimes even to her. The persistent cough and ragged breaths made the illusion of an invincible clan leader much weaker in Genji’s mind. He was no fool. He knew his father was not well. The least Genji could do is fulfill his duty of making Sojiro proud of him just once in his life before he passed on. Before he became another spirit of Shimada clan past in this small, smoky shrine. 

“So,” Sojiro began as they both walked out of the shrine later, leaning on his son’s shoulder, “What did you think of Kimiko?” Genji hummed in thought, leading his father through the gardens to their living quarters. A nurse was waiting outside of an entrance, arms crossed. Ah. Sojiro had escaped from them earlier, then. He was as sneaky as Genji when he wanted to be. 

“Kimi-chan is great. I actually saw her last night. We made plans to eat together later today. I think we get along very well.” Genji felt his pride swell a bit with Sojiro’s own proud smile, the man beaming at his young son.

“That is excellent, Genji. You know, a union between our clans would benefit us all greatly. It is a lot to put on my Sparrow’s shoulders, but I could not ask this of Hanzo. I look to you to strengthen our clan in ways he can not.” Genji’s smile faltered a bit, though he kept a weak one plastered on for his father’s sake. They finally reached the unhappy nurse, who guided him inside before Genji could ask why. Why couldn’t Hanzo do this instead?

 

And that’s exactly what he asked his brother when he stumbled into his bedroom drunk later that night. Hanzo grunted awake when Genji crashed his body weight against him, sleeping soundly in his bed up until that point. 

“What, what?” Hanzo groaned, shoving his brother off of him, “What is the matter with you?”

“ _Hanzoooo_ ,” Genji managed to shimmy himself under Hanzo’s comforter, wrapping his limbs around his brother like an octopus, “Why can’t you be the one to get married? Why does it have to be me? I can’t commit to someone right now. I’m so young and horny and I haven’t fucked enough people.” Hanzo made a disgusted sound, managing to get an elbow in between them.

“First of all, please don’t say things like that when you’re pressed against me. Second of all, father _did_ ask me to court someone from another clan, but I refused—“ Genji cut him off with a whine, making Hanzo’s nose wrinkle at the smell of alcohol on his breath.

“You are so selfish! You are going to be head of the clan soon, of course you should be the one getting married! What will people say when the clan leader’s younger brother is the one getting married instead? They will say nasty things, Hanzo! You are throwing my youth away!” Genji was thumping his fists feebly against his brother anywhere they would land, nearly throwing a drunken tantrum at this point. Hanzo snatched up his wrists, twisting himself and using the momentum to throw Genji off of him and onto the floor. 

“Third of all!” Hanzo near-yelled, on his feet now, “ _You_ are the selfish one! You always have been! And finally, I can not marry because no union could be possible where everyone was happy! I can not marry a woman and be happy, and there is no marriage possible in this country that would please me. You may know who you are, Genji, but I also know myself!” Genji was wide-eyed on the tatami flooring, sweat from the alcohol and his rough housing making his skin clammy. Was Hanzo saying what he thought he was saying?

“You are…” Genji sat up, making the world spin for a moment, “You are gay?”

It was silent in the bedroom now. Hanzo was breathing hard, trying to get it under control. “Yes,” he finally replied, a near-whisper. “And Father gave the task of joining the clans to you to spare me unhappiness. Please, Genji. This is the only responsibility I’ve been spared of so far. If you will not help me run this empire, the least you can do is benefit our relations.”

So now he had to do this not just for Sojiro, but for Hanzo as well.

Hanzo let out a frustrated sigh and sat on the bed’s edge, lending a hand to Genji so he could sit beside him. They sat like that for a while in the moonlit room, both brothers looking anywhere but at each other. Genji finally blew out a sigh, nudging his shoulder against Hanzo’s. He felt much more sober after that.

“Speaking of marriages, I think it may work out with Kimi-chan after all.” Hanzo raised an eyebrow, leaning back to direct it to the younger.

“What do you mean ‘after all’? What did you do?” came the accusation.

Genji sputtered, lost for words. Of course Hanzo would catch that. “Nothing! Well, not nothing—I didn’t intend to—I didn’t know at the time—But it’s okay now! Probably!” Hanzo blinked at Genji, leaning back to stare at his blathering brother.

“Stop. Start from the beginning. What did you do?” Hanzo sounded just like their father sometimes. The calm voice of reason, the firm hand on his shoulder. Genji took a deep breath and willed his still buzzed brain to focus.

“Okay. Uh. I went out that night I met her, right?” Hanzo nodded, face neutral. “I met a guy there that night and he took me home—well, to his hotel room—“

“A guy?” Hanzo’s eyebrows shot up, “I thought—“

“Yeah I thought too!” Genji tossed his torso back on Hanzo’s bed, groaning, “Don’t interrupt!” Hanzo huffed, laying back as well. 

“Fine. Continue.”

“Okay. So I let this guy take me to his hotel room. We fuck. He’s my first guy, Hanzo. And it was good. And I can’t stop thinking about it. But I’m not gay. I don’t think so. I don’t know. How did you know you were gay?”

Hanzo snorts, “I just did, at some point. I had no doubt when Father approached me about the marriage. This isn’t about me. Get back to the point. What does this have to do with Kimiko? You told me she did not care about your promiscuity.”

“She _doesn’t_. But she might care about the guy, because he’s, ah,” Genji covers his face, groaning at what he finally has to admit, “the guy I fucked was her brother.”

It’s dead silent. Genji expected yelling, snarling, outright disgust. It isn’t until he uncovers his face and turns his head to look at Hanzo that he realizes his brother is _laughing_ , silently shaking and covering his own face. Hanzo takes a steadying breath but only bursts out with actual laughter with the new intake of air. Genji feels his face burn red hot, shooting back up to a sitting position. “Hanzo! It’s not funny!”

“Okay,” Hanzo wheezes out, his face pink from the rare outburst of laughter, “Okay. But tell me, how does she not know? You ate with her and her brother today, I thought? Wouldn’t he have told her at some point?”

“He didn’t know who I was until we met up at the restaurant, and I didn’t know who he was until after we uh… _finished_.” Hanzo lets out another bark of laughter, sitting up and covering his mouth.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just so like you to go to bed with someone, not knowing their name, and ending up in trouble for it. This is a very Genji situation.”

Genji grumbles, shoving Hanzo’s shoulder lightly. “It’s serious this time. But he didn’t tell her about us hooking up that night, even when he found out who I was. So the marriage is safe. It’s just that we hooked up again tonight. I can’t help it, Hanzo. It’s so different with a man. It’s so _good_.“

Hanzo rolls his eyes, “I don’t really want to hear about your sexual experiences, Genji. Why did you hook up with him again if you knew it might be a dealbreaker with your arrangement with Kimiko?”

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t know he was at the club I was at tonight. I had just finished with a girl and sent her out of the bathroom when he came in right before I could lock the door behind her, and well,” Genji huffs, throwing his hands in the air, “I already had my pants off and—“ Hanzo gags, giving Genji a look.

“I don’t need details, Genji! Tell me _why_! Doesn’t he have concerns about this as well?”

Genji shrugs, looking sheepish. “I think we both kind of agreed that what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. At least, that’s what we said in the heat of the moment… He might care now that he’s not balls deep in me.” Hanzo shut his eyes and shuddered at that, making another gagging sound. Genji ignored him. “When she introduced us at the restaurant he looked surprised for like, a millisecond. But then he just shook my hand and acted like we were strangers. He gave me a smile when she wasn’t looking as they left, but I don’t know if that means anything. And he gave me his number before we parted ways tonight at the club. I don’t know what to do, Hanzo. He’s going to be my brother-in-law if I marry Kimi-chan.”

“There is no ‘if’. You _will_ marry Kimiko, you _will_ join our families, and you _will_ stop fucking your future brother-in-law!” Hanzo gave Genji a sharp jab in the ribs with his fingers. “Now get out and let me sleep, you drunkard.” 

Genji wraps his arms around Hanzo’s shoulders and drags them both down to the mattress, whining. “Hanzo, please, let me sleep here with you. Like old times. I can’t be by myself or I think too much. And I get impulsive when I think too much.” 

Hanzo grunts, accepting defeat. “Fine. Just don’t throw up on me.” He shoves Genji’s arms off himself, moving to right himself on the bed and rolling over to turn his back to his younger brother. Hanzo grabs the rumpled comforter and tosses it over them both, grumbling in irritation. Genji instantly moves against the warmth of his brother, drawing out a long-suffering sigh from the warm body. “Must you do that?”

Genji grins against Hanzo’s back, “It’s comforting. You have hips like a woman’s.” This earns him a swift back-kick off the bed. When Genji manages to catch his breath and return atop the bed, Hanzo has put a pillow behind his back as a barrier. “Anija, I was just joking!”

\---

A couple of months pass with Genji’s life remaining the same – party, fuck, drink, fuck, dance, video games, fuck – but now Kimiko and her brother make random appearances in his life almost every night. He’s pretty sure one or both of them must be figuring out where he’s going and going there as well to purposefully run into him. It would be concerning if not for the fact that he blasted out his location on every possible social media outlet as well as mass texting his groupies where the party (AKA himself) was at that night. 

During the day, if he isn’t too hungover, he’ll end up with Kimiko on his arm half the time. She would go with him to the arcade, Rikimaru’s ramen shop, shopping around Tokyo, whatever strikes his fancy that day. His crew still accompanies him as well, though the girls don’t try to flirt with him anymore when Kimiko’s around and he has to admit it kills his ego a bit. 

Strangely enough, at least maybe just to him, Kimiko didn’t seem interested in sex. If he tried to steer the conversation towards some dirtier flirting, she seemed very bored by it. He had gotten the impression when they had first met that she was a little promiscuous herself, but the rumor mill only knew her as a trouble maker and a bit of a brat. While Genji admired her in a way, his dick spoke louder than his heart. She didn’t want him to be with anyone else physically after they married, and he had happily agreed at the time, but the possibility of being celibate for the rest of his life was enough to give him a jolt of panic. 

When he finally, albeit awkwardly, asked her if she was even remotely interested in sex, she had let out some sort of scoffing laugh. “I’m not a virgin, and I’m not adverse to sex. It’s just,” She rolled her eyes a bit, adjusting the mask over her mouth and nose before continuing to tag the wall in the alley they were in, “my brother has ruined every relationship I’ve ever had. When your boyfriend moans out your brother’s name in bed, it kind of ruins it for you.” Genji choked on the soda he had been sucking down, coughing hard while she finished filling in the bubbly hiragana spelling her name. His own name was next to hers in green and black, blending in with the mass amount of graffiti all over the wall. 

“You two seem like you’re fine, though,” Genji finally managed to say. Kimiko hummed, going over the pink letters with white accents to make them look shiny. 

“I told him to back off with you. That we were going to get married some day, and his wedding present to me could be him not trying to stick his dick in you.” She was trying to be funny, but Genji could only let out a weak laugh at that. To be fair, Takeshi hadn’t known who he was the first night they spent together. But he had continued to pursue him even after finding out. What a jerk!

Before Genji could find anything to say to that, a shout came from one end of the alleyway. A police officer had stumbled upon them. Genji yanked his green bandana over his mouth and nose, throwing his spray paint cans into the backpack on the ground they had brought them in. Kimiko threw hers in as well, groaning unhappily at the white streak over the ‘ko’ she had painted accidentally in surprise. They clasped hands, running the other direction from the cop as he gave chase. 

Once they were safely on the roof of a nearby building, watching the cop stalk away back to the main street in confusion at the suddenly disappearing teenagers, they laughed freely. The adrenaline and the thrill of getting away had them giggling for a few minutes straight. They leaned against one another, rubbing their thumbs against the other’s hands as they stayed holding one another. 

Genji waited until after he had kissed her goodbye at the gate of her estate to send off a ‘we need to talk’ text to her brother. He could not let their consistent flings go on, knowing what he knew now. Genji may be a bit of a slut, but he wasn’t a bad guy.

 

Of course, the text went unanswered, and Genji didn’t see Takeshi at all for the next few weeks. The issue moved to the back of Genji’s mind at some point. His 18th birthday was coming up and he was excited to celebrate.

The day before, he had gotten a girl from his group to bleach and dye his hair a vibrant green, something he had been wanting to do for a while. Though she had insisted he strip off his shirt to do it, and she had admired the fierce dragon tattoo adorning his entire upper back with her soft hands for a bit too long… They hadn’t actually started the process until an hour later due to being ‘distracted’. Genji had no complaints. 

Hanzo had simply scoffed the moment he had seen it, rolling his eyes. Yet another thing Genji could get away with. The elders all frowned at the sight, but did not voice their disapproval after Sojiro had laughed in delight, insisting on observing the green locks closer and congratulating his son on such a bold choice in color. If Hanzo’s growling was audible, no one had said anything. 

Sojiro would request his son’s presence before he went out to celebrate his birthday for the night, quietly placing his late wife’s ring in Genji’s palm. “This was your mother’s. It may not fit Kimiko, but you can at least propose with it. You have made me very proud, little sparrow, in upholding this duty I have given to you.” Genji had stared at the ring, turning it over in his hand even as his father hugged him close. With this proximity, he could hear his father struggling to fill his lungs.

“The nurses said your lungs have been giving you worse trouble,” Genji had commented sadly, pocketing the ring. Sojiro waved a hand in dismissal at the statement, coughing into his fist for longer than Genji felt comfortable witnessing. 

“Those nurses, these Shimada elders, even my eldest son: they know nothing of living. You, my son, you know how to live. You are living. Your mother lived to her fullest. She was the most alive woman I had ever met. Please, go live tonight. Celebrate your youth as well as your growing. She would be so proud of you, Genji. I am proud to give you her ring.” 

Genji had nodded, sitting quietly through another coughing fit and refusing tears to spring to his eyes. His father would not talk about his illness, ever persistent to insist he was as strong as ever. The elders murmured of his dwindling health. Hanzo was already now acting as head of the clan, taking his father’s place entirely in the family affairs. And all were getting impatient for Genji to finally propose to Kimiko officially and lock in the marriage offer.

He would do it tonight, he decided when he finally left his father’s chambers to attend his party.

Kimiko had insisted on throwing the party at her family’s estate, excited to show off her ability to be a good girlfriend now that she had actually kept a boyfriend for so long. Genji had sent out an open invitation, and now nearly all of Hanamura’s young party crowd was gathered in the great hall of Kimiko’s estate, drinking, dancing, and partying like they would at any club that night. Kimiko was enjoying playing the hostess: getting drinks, providing food, hanging off of Genji’s arm any time he wasn’t dancing in the middle of the designated dance floor. 

Genji was enjoying himself, showing off in every way he could. He had come dressed nicely, in a button-up shirt and black slacks, but the shirt had gotten stripped almost immediately to reveal the loose tank top underneath instead. He ended up with glitter all over him, curtesy of a prank gift from one of the girls, and now adorned a silver body chain and even a tiara. His crew knew he liked to be pretty and shiny and their gifts reflected that. His booze buzzed brain had not forgotten about his intent to propose, but his plan seemed inappropriately timed now that he was several drinks in and letting one of his groupies draw on his signature winged eyeliner with the new metallic silver eyeliner he had just been gifted. 

His phone had been buzzing in his pocket all night, so it had gone ignored. It wasn’t until he had finally broken away from the crowd to use the restroom that he checked it. There were several notifications from his social media apps, still adding on even as he stared at the screen. Pictures were being posted, well wishes being sent, all with him being tagged. But the text messages were what got his attention. Many from people he couldn’t remember giving his number to as well as some certain friends (Ken couldn’t make it tonight; Genji was actually a bit disappointed by that), but what got his attention was the most recent text. A single new text from Fujiwara Takeshi.

_You needed to talk?_

Genji’s heart jumped, and he replied immediately. He didn’t notice the message was nearly an hour old until he hit send. It was just after midnight at this point; he wasn’t sure he’d be getting a response. He was about to step out of the bathroom when his phone buzzed again.

_You are here, right? Come see me._

Genji stared at the message. Genji knew a booty call (er, text?) when he saw one. Mostly because he was usually the one sending them out. Or maybe it was just the alcohol making him think that. After all, it just said to go meet with him, not to jump in his bed, strip him down, and ride him until the sun came up. Genji giggled at the thought, biting his bottom lip. No, no, none of that. He needed to tell Takeshi to back off. For Kimiko.

Genji managed to go unseen into the rest of the estate, closed off from the guests in the great hall. He was as quiet as a drunk ninja could be, trying to navigate the hallways without disturbing anyone. Genji had been to the estate a few times since meeting Kimiko, but he had only been back here to the personal quarters once or twice. A door opened slowly, leaking out moonlight into the hallway. Genji froze, expecting to get scolded for sneaking around the house by some family member he had met once and forgotten already by now, but the silhouetted form that stepped out was none other than Takeshi himself. Genji closed the gap between them, following the older inside to the room and shutting the door behind them.

“Enjoying your party?” Takeshi asked innocently, sitting on the edge of the bed to one side of the room. Genji eyed him suspiciously, swaying just a bit. He shouldn’t have agreed to this after so much to drink, but he might as well do it now. 

“I am. Kimiko is an excellent hostess. And that is why we need to talk.” Genji was proud of himself so far. He had never had to break up with someone before, a benefit of never dating in the first place, but he imagined it was something like telling your fuck buddy you had to stop being fuck buddies…right? 

“I’m sorry I had not responded until now. I had to leave town for some family business,” Takeshi said before Genji could get any further. Genji was taken aback a bit, running a hand through his glittery hair. The moonlight coming in through the high windows in the room made him sparkle.

“It didn’t bother me,” Genji lied, fidgeting with a bracelet on his wrist. In some weird way, he had missed Takeshi, but mostly because it was a lot harder to find a guy to fuck in the clubs in Japan. The guys teased and joked but given a real proposition, they did not react well. Ken was sometimes available when Genji couldn’t find a guy for the night, but normally now Genji just stumbled home drunk, crawled into Hanzo’s bed, and passed out unsatisfied. Hanzo did not enjoy his unwelcome bed guest, but he did not kick Genji out, either. He would even stay up with him some nights and talk, even when Genji’s thoughts were muddled. 

Genji shook his head. He wasn’t here to think about Ken or Hanzo or anything like that right now. He was here to tell Takeshi to back off. “Kimiko told me about—“ 

Takeshi frowned a bit, quirking his head to the side. “What was that? I can not hear you all the way over there. Come closer.” Genji felt foolish, coming forward the second he saw Takeshi curl his fingers in a come-here gesture. He knew this trick. Hell, he almost invented this trick! But he was falling for it. Genji started to speak again, but was interrupted by another request to come closer. 

Genji glared at him, crossing his arms. “Hey. Cut it out. I know what you’re doing.” Takeshi only smirked, reaching out and snatching up one of Genji’s wrists.

“Let’s skip to the good part, then.”

It was only a gentle tug and a drunken stumble forward needed to get Genji straddled on Takeshi’s lap. The younger groaned low in his throat, grinding back on the half-hard length underneath him out of instinct. Damn it. Damn him! He was weak. It only took some whispered words and gentle, encouraging hands to get his pants off. Genji gave one last attempt to speak but fingers pressed against his lips stopped him. He couldn’t help but remember being silenced the same way their first night.

“After, okay? I promise.” 

Genji only hesitated for a moment before nodding and letting himself get rolled onto his back. Fine. It was like breakup sex, right? One last time.

His head was swimming as he watched Takeshi disrobe and search for a condom. The lube was already sitting on top on the bedside table, as though pre-meditated. Genji ignored that he had fallen in the spider’s web so easily, his selfishness talking. He deserved this. It was his birthday and dick wasn’t easy to find in Hanamura. His birthday gift to himself, right? His reasoning made sense to his hazy mind more and more as the weight of the extra body settled around him. 

After getting stretched open – almost unbearably slowly – a tap to Genji’s hip and a soft demand of ‘on top’ had him scrambling up off his back. They switched around, hands gripping hips as they settled into their new positions. Genji couldn’t help but smile at the glitter he had left behind on the bed beneath his lover. 

It almost felt like a relief to sink down. They both chuckled at the large sigh that escaped Genji the moment he was fully seated. A few experimental hip rolls from them both had Genji covering his mouth, muffling the moans that escaped his throat. The hands at his hips tightened, and Takeshi led the rhythm from there.

Genji whined unhappily when Takeshi stiffened and froze beneath him, ruining the building pleasure. “Kimiko,” Takeshi gasped, sitting up suddenly. Genji grunted and made a wild grab for his shoulders, clinging on tightly to keep himself upright on top of him.

“You said we could talk about that after, not during!” Genji huffed out, frowning.

“By all means, do not stop on my account!” A voice shrieked out behind Genji in the doorway. Oh no. No no no no no.

“Kimi,” Genji gasped out, twisting his upper body to look behind him, but she was already storming away. Genji turned back, shoving at Takeshi’s chest angrily. “You jerk! You bastard! This is your fault!” 

“You crawled into MY bed, you easy slut!” Takeshi yelled back, “I did not make you do anything! I did her a favor, making her see what you really are!”

Genji had his clothes on in record time, storming out into the hall and leaving Takeshi with a stinging, red handprint across his face. All of the yelling had woken the Fujiwara family, standing in their doorways watching him pass as he made his way back to the main hall. The music had stopped and people were heard complaining as they departed, upset the party was over so soon. 

“Kimi, please,” Genji begged when he found her finally, coming back into the great hall from chasing out the guests, “Please, let’s talk about this.”

“What is there to talk about? I saw everything I needed to see. Everything that matters. And I know I do not want to see _you_ anymore!” She tried to push past him but found her wrist caught in Genji’s grasp. “Genji, please, leave.” A sniffle escaped her and she turned to face him again. Her face was getting red, big tears gathering in her eyes. “Just get out of here. I never want to see you again! I feel so foolish, letting someone like you into my heart!”

Genji let her go. She stalked away, rubbing hot tears out of her eyes as she left him standing at the doorway. Genji only hesitated for a moment before exiting out the doors, finding his bike still sitting just within the gates. He was glad he had the foresight to put his gifts in the backpack hanging off a mirror, but he was still too drunk to drive. A glance back at the doors told him to risk it anyway. The family was gathered there, watching him leave with scowls on their faces. There would be no coming back for the bike in the morning. He had to leave now. 

The ring felt heavy in his pocket.

\---

“Up. Up. Get up.” An urgent voice cut through Genji’s restless sleep. Genji groaned, his head throbbing with his hangover. He feels the layer of sweat on his body, making him uncomfortable and warm under the sheets on top of him. The voice tells him to get up again, and Genji manages to crack an eye open and look up at the assailant. Hanzo, looking irritated. He had been letting his facial hair grow in these days; Genji had almost mistaken him for a younger version of their father.

“I’m up, unfortunately,” Genji rasps out, closing the eye again. He didn’t quite remember getting back home, but he must have driven back safely. Wouldn’t be the first time he drove drunk, though he had received a thorough scolding from their father himself for it.

“Genji, this is serious. Father passed away.”

Genji’s eyes opened, surpressing a pained groan at the sudden intake his burning eyes were given. “That’s impossible,” Genji heard himself say, “He was fine; I saw him last night. I spoke to him. Hanzo, he’s fine—“

“Stop saying that! He is gone, Genji! He passed very early this morning. Lung failure. The elders decided to tell me at breakfast instead of right away.” Hanzo scowled at that. “Genji, they found it more important to tell me that the Fujiwara clan does not want anything to do with us anymore. What have you done? What happened last night?”

Genji balked. “You also find it more important to discuss the Fujiwara clan, Hanzo? Our father has died! What of the arrangements for that? Is that not more important to you?” 

Hanzo closed his eyes, his lips pursing in forced patience. “Yes. It is. But I still have business to attend to and unfortunately, you have become part of that.” He opened his eyes again to Genji still staring at him, eyebrows knit together in frustration. “I do not get to pick and choose what I do for this family, Genji! And you are no help. You were given one task and you somehow made things worse!”

The brothers bicker in circles until Hanzo insists he must leave to fulfill his duties. Genji can’t decide if he’s relieved or not when he’s left alone. All there is to do now is think.

A shower helps his body, but not his mind. He can only replay seeing Kimiko’s distress over and over in his mind. He remembers embracing his father just the night before, staring at the ring put in his hand. A certain man’s voice rings in his head, repeating the words no one had ever dared to call him to his face. _Easy slut_.

The hot water carries away the unsightly tears until it runs cold. Then it is a relief to his hot face, still red from crying more than the hot water. He stands under it even then. Genji could have stayed there forever if not for a house attendant calling his name outside the private bathroom. 

“Master Genji,” She calls out again, sounding close to giving up. Genji feels irritation prickle under his skin. Can’t they leave him alone? Can’t he mourn the death of his fling, his almost engagement, his _father_ , in private!? The attendant lets out a surprised squeak when the bathroom door flies open, revealing a still soaking wet, naked Genji to her. 

“What.”

“The, ah, the council is requesting your presence,” She stammers out, her eyes darting everywhere but forward. Genji snorts, turning and giving her a good look at the other side.

“They can wait. I am requesting to be alone today.” He slams the door shut again, grabbing his towel to dry himself off a bit too roughly. Ridiculous. They can’t leave him alone, today of all days? The knocking begins and Genji feels his blood boil. “I am not attending!”

“Young Master, you may not have a choice, here. They are discussing the Fujiwara clan and they want to hear from you what has happened. They are quite upset.” Genji rolls his eyes. He wants to hiss in her face and tell her to hold her tongue, to watch how freely a lowly attendant to the Shimada clan should speak. But he is not his brother, expressive in his higher class rank. Genji has always encouraged the attendants to gossip and chat freely with him. It’s his own fault they act so familiar with him.

“I will come to them in an hour. Please, leave me.” Genji hates the slight warble in his voice. He feels a hollow relief at her retreating footsteps. 

Hanzo is at the center of the elders when Genji goes before them, unsurprisingly. What does surprise him is that he is silent the entire time, barely even looking at Genji. The meeting room feels more like a courtroom. The table that the elders sit at is on a raised platform in the back of the room, looking down on whoever comes forward to speak to them. In older times, families of equal or slightly less influence and wealth might have come to this room to speak with the elders of those times. Now, it is simply where Genji has come to explain that he has failed the one task bestowed upon him. In the back of his mind, he is glad his father is not there to share in the disappointed scowls of the elders. 

“You know why you are here before us,” One of the elders, a great-aunt or something of the like, begins, “The Fujiwara clan has decided to end their business dealings with our own. They have cited your disrespect as their reason. What will you say for yourself?”

Genji wants to remain silent, defiant, but he knows stubbornness is a Shimada trait the elders could beat him on. He shifts in place, arms crossed in front of him as he stares at his feet. “The only thing I will say for certain is that the second born is a snake. The marriage was doomed to fail by his hand alone.” He expects the snort of contempt that comes from one of them. 

“You have no one to blame but yourself. You have been trained from birth for dealing with your enemies; blaming another is no excuse.” Genji’s jaw works minutely from side to side, chewing on his lip. Defense from physical attack, yes, he’s more than able. Emotional and mental manipulation, he was never taught to defend from. Genji peers up at Hanzo, still looking off to the side. They would not know how to defend from that. The family relies on it to keep Hanzo in line with their wishes. Maybe they had with Sojiro, too, to a lesser degree.

“What would you have of me, now?” Genji manages to say loudly enough. Without the protection of his father and the deflection of his brother, he knows he can’t escape the laser focus of the elders so easily. He expects a task to redeem himself, a demand to learn the family business after refusing his entire life. 

“Nothing. Your usefulness is over. Feel free to do as you please, as you have always done.”

Well he hadn’t expected that. Hanzo looks pained. 

Genji hopes his brother can feel his stare. “Hanzo. What of the arrangements for our father?” He is irritated when his great-aunt cuts in again, stating it is being taken care of, that he will be summoned when it is time to pay respects. Genji can’t control the pointed glare at her. “I asked my brother.”

“Genji, you are dismissed.” The first words out of Hanzo this entire time. Genji feels the flutter of a muscle under his eye, responding to stress. Hanzo _still_ won’t look at him. 

Genji makes sure to slam the door behind him when he leaves.

 

\---

 

It’s two days later before Genji is summoned to join the rest of the clan in paying their respects to his late father. He doesn’t join the large congregation of them standing outside the small family shrine, watching instead from the roof of the dojo across the way. He can hear Hanzo training in the open-air training floor on the other side, practicing his kata for the tenth time that day. When Hanzo had a lot on his mind, he trained until he could no longer stand. Genji did the same… except with alcohol.

Genji had not gone out and drank himself half to death this time around. To the surprise of everyone, he had shut himself away in his room, wasting the day on video games and hoarded snack foods. The buzzing phone went ignored, though he did text Ken back and no one else. Genji was tempted to ask him to come over and stay with him, but he decided against it in the end. He didn’t want it to sound like a desperate booty call. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, but that wasn’t it. 

Only Hanzo saw him, Genji crawling through his window in the dead of night like a gecko. The first night, he had cried, his face pressed against his brother’s broad chest. They hadn’t exchanged a word, tangled together like children until Genji finally fell asleep from exhausting himself crying. Genji had always been the crybaby, and Hanzo always his protector. As the head of the clan now, Genji wasn’t sure if he could trust him to be that anymore.

Genji climbs down from the rooftop when the elders have had their fill pretending to mourn their lost leader and move back inside. The spent incense sticks are replaced with new ones provided by Genji, and he sets himself in seiza to look upon the two urns now sitting in the center of the elaborate setup of the shrine. His father and mother, finally joined together again. The old, worn hair ribbon that was tied around his mother’s urn now has been re-tied to wrap around both, with his father’s own well-worn ribbon crossing it. 

A body settles into seiza next to him. In the corner of his eye, Genji sees the long strands of Hanzo’s hair thrash out forward and then back to him as his brother settles. They sit together in silence for a few minutes before Hanzo snatches up Genji’s hand quietly, almost like he’s been scared to, and lets their joined hands fall to the floor between them. 

“I am sorry. Genji, the elders—I don’t know if it was like this for father. But they do not listen to me, they do not allow me to speak as a leader, they do not _want_ me to speak as a leader. I have trained for this duty my whole life, but they will not let me fulfill it. I don’t know what will happen. Something is happening soon, though. I feel it under my skin.” Hanzo clears his throat, studying the urns in front of them. “I’m sorry,” he repeats, “they would not have wanted us fighting. I should have done more, but when I try to dismiss myself from them or speak freely, they shut me down. I don’t know how to take control when it is not given freely, like it was promised to me.” They both move their heads to look at each other. Both pairs of brown eyes are tired and sullen. 

“I’m sorry I ruined the family union. They are probably taking it out on you.” Genji mutters this with his eyes downcast. Hanzo snorts, rolling his eyes.

“I’m sorry I was upset about it at all. It’s true that it hurts our business to lose theirs, but I have been thinking that maybe their kind of business is not what the family should be involved in.” Genji raises an eyebrow, smiling a bit. “In fact, pretty much all of our business is… disagreeable. If I truly had power in this family, I could—I _would_ align our family and its name with something more…” Hanzo flits a hand in the air, searching for a word, “legitimate.”

“Of that I have no doubt, Hanzo. You were always challenging father’s commitment to old ways. You still upheld them, all the same.” Hanzo shrugs a bit.

“You hated tradition and sought out a more modern lifestyle.” Hanzo reaches up with his free hand to ruffle his brother’s greasy green locks, unwashed and unkempt. “Father delighted in that. I think he lived through you sometimes. I think he had wished me to do the same, with all the questioning I did.”

“Father isn’t here anymore,” Genji murmurs sadly, “We should not fight any longer. Agreed?”

Hanzo laughs, squeezing his brother’s hand in his. “Agreed.”

\---

 

Genji is feeling much better by the time night falls. So good, in fact, he thinks he may go out tonight. Perhaps even invite Hanzo out. His brother needed to loosen up; this was an excellent idea. Genji is just about to exit his room when Hanzo himself appears, shoving Genji roughly back into the room and engaging the lock on his door. Genji can barely let out a noise of protest before Hanzo’s nearly nose to nose with him.

“Genji. Listen carefully: You have been marked.”

 _Marked by the Dragon_. The centuries old slang that insinuated an enemy of the clan was marked for death. The marked person would then be hunted down like an animal and slaughtered, their remains reminiscent to those of a person ripped apart by dragons themselves. It was an ugly practice that required a unanimous decision from the family council. Genji had only known of a mark being hunted once in his lifetime. He can still remember the great bell ringing, announcing that a hunt had begun. The elders, a decade younger then, had been delighted to take up their weapons. Genji had watched his great-uncle practice flawlessly with the shuriken earlier that day and had begged to learn the throwing weapons for his own arsenal of skill. Now the memory made his blood run cold.

“Pack quickly. Lightly. There is not much time,” Hanzo urged, grabbing the mostly empty backpack from the chair it hung from at Genji’s cluttered desk and tossing it at him. “The elders were gracious enough to grant me time alone with you before they pursue the mark.”

“Gracious. You call this gracious.” Genji parrots the word dumbly, not moving from where he stood except to flinch at the backpack hitting his chest. “Listen to yourself. They’re _hunting_ me, Hanzo!”

“And that is why you should be moving! I am trying to spare you, Genji. The elders want you to disappear and if I fail to do it my way before they find you, they will do it their way. And you know what that means.”

Genji was shoving whatever clean clothes could be found laying around his mess of a room into his backpack, albeit too slowly for Hanzo’s taste. “Why must I rush? Why must I do this at all? You are the family figurehead now, so just call them off.” Genji slowed his actions to a stop, looking up to squint at Hanzo. “Wait. Did _you_ mark me?”

Hanzo doesn’t answer his question. “Ken-san will take you to the airport and ensure you get on a plane. I’ve reserved a seat on a flight for you. You need to leave your phone behind. They will track it. Are you finished packing yet? You need to get moving.”

“Hanzo. Call off the mark. What is happening? Why is this—“ A loud, resonating _BONG_ rang out from outside, making both of the brothers freeze. Genji found a sudden jolt of energy, grabbing more sensible clothing and his handheld gaming console to shove in his bag as the bell continued its chiming.

The hunt had begun and Genji was still in the dragon’s den.

“This is the first place they will look. We need to leave.” Hanzo snatches Genji’s phone out of his hand mid frantic texting, tossing it into an opened drawer in the desk. “Now! Go!” Hanzo shoves him backwards to the sliding door leading to the gardens and looks behind his brother when the door is opened. “Get him out of here. Get him on that plane. I don’t care if you have to knock him out, he needs to leave the country at once.”

Genji experiences a moment of confusion and panic when big hands grab at him and sling him over a broad shoulder. He’s too startled to scream to his brother, who is quickly becoming smaller and smaller in his vision as he’s rushed out into the night. He sees his bedroom door bashed open and Hanzo turning to face the would-be assassins, a hand on the blade at his hip. Before he can cry out, he’s going through the gates, to the street, where a car waits with its doors open. Genji is tossed into the passenger seat roughly, the door closing before he can even finish landing. Ken is running to the driver’s side, jamming the key in the ignition and flooring the gas pedal as soon as the car is started. 

“Ken, go back,” Genji pleads, out of breath and dizzy from the sudden turn of events, “Hanzo is in trouble, I can’t leave him there!” Ken shakes his head, maneuvering the streets easily through the sparse traffic. “Ken, please!”

“I was given the task of protecting you and I will see it through. I should have been there that night, Genji. None of this would have happened if I had been there to protect you from yourself. But I can be here tonight. Let me do this.” Ken glances over, just for a moment. “Hanzo-sama put your passport and wallet in that backpack. Told me to tell you.” Genji looks bewildered, looking in the bag to find them stuffed at the bottom. How long had Hanzo expected this to happen? Did he plan on this? Why didn’t he tell him sooner?

Genji is quiet the rest of the trip to the airport, hugging the backpack to his chest like a lifeline. When they arrive, Genji all but clings to his large friend, big eyes roaming the busy confusion of the building. “Where am I even going? I’ve never gotten on a plane by myself before.” Ken guides them to a ticket kiosk, and surely enough, they find a plane ticket reserved in his name going to Sacramento, California. 

“California, Ken. My brother’s heard me daydream about this place for so long, I shouldn’t be surprised.” Genji looks up at Ken as he now holds the physical copy of his ticket in hand. They search for his gate together, with Ken looking around them for a tail every so often. 

“What’s in California?” Ken asks in polite curiosity, leading Genji in the right direction. Genji shrugs, keeping close.

“I always thought it would be perfect for me. America’s supposed to be the land of opportunity. And California’s like me. Shiny, expensive, a little odd. It’s where I belong. It has to be.” Ken laughs at that, a rare treat. They find the gate, breathing out a relieved sigh that the plane is still boarding and has not left without them.

It all feels surreal. This was not how Genji expected his day to end. Then again, he wasn’t sure how the rest of his days in Hanamura would have even played out. If Hanzo hadn’t arranged his departure, he’s sure he might have been overpowered and skewered through by now. Genji shudders at the thought, grabbing Ken’s arm.

“I don’t want to go,” Genji admits, ignoring the tremble in his hands, “but I have to.” He squeezes Ken in a tight embrace, his arms wrapped tight around Ken’s own, keeping him from returning it. “I took you for granted. You may have been my only real friend in all of these years, Ken-chan.”

“Oh, is it Ken-chan again?” Ken murmurs in amusement at the honorific’s reappearance. Genji smiles and punches his arm lightly as he lets go. A final boarding call announcement is made, and Ken pushes his smaller friend forward towards the gate by the small of his back. “Go. I’ll see you again, Genji. When you return some day.” 

Genji doesn’t waste any more time, presenting his ticket and passport to board before the tired-looking flight attendant can leave her station. He takes a second to turn and wave goodbye to Ken before rushing through to board. The aisle seat feels like a mercy. Genji knows looking over the ocean when they begin to cross it will make it too real, too scary. This is really happening. The youngest Shimada is on his own for the first time, on the run from his own family. 

Takeoff without his father and brother’s hand to hold is nerve-rattling, but a very nice woman sitting beside him manages to take his mind off of the odd sensation of eternal lifting by chatting with him about mundane things. She could tell it was his first flight, she claims, and he doesn’t bother to correct her in saying it’s merely his first flight alone. 

Eventually they stop speaking once he’s fully calmed and the plane has long since leveled. It is a long flight ahead of him. He pulls out the handheld, happy for his thought to grab it. However, the charger remained in the wall in his room, and the handheld died an hour and a half into the flight. There was nothing left to do but sleep or think. One was much more preferable to the other.

 _When you return some day_ , Ken’s voice repeats before he nods off. Will he return? Will there be anything to return to?

He wakes and sleeps many times during the flight, but the final time he wakes is to an announcement that they’re landing. A glance out the window gives him the sunny, clear skies he’s always imagined. Emotion was bubbling in his chest, but he wasn’t sure what. Excitement, anxiety? His heart jumped in his throat when the wheels finally touched down, and the announcement came in both Japanese and English:

_Welcome to Sacramento, California._


	2. Sacramento

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji goes to Sacramento and finds himself. Finds himself in deep trouble, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Holy shit. I did not intend for this to take so long, or for it to BE so long. There are many points I could have made this one chapter into multiple chapters, but I wanted each chapter to be a new phase/location in Genji's life. So. It took some time for this one. Because this is pretty much a defining point in his life. 
> 
> Thank you if you've patiently waited for this. 
> 
> Big huge motherfuckin' THANK YOU to MacBeka for being my beta for this beast. Seriously the best.  
> And thank you always to Purely-A-Trashcan. My muse, my inspiration, my partner in crime, and most importantly she lets me play in this sandbox like a monster. ilu bb
> 
> Content warning: This chapter contains sexual abuse and drug/alcohol abuse. If these topics are triggering please do not continue. This is not a nice story.

One step at a time. One foot in front of the other. That’s all Genji can tell himself when he finally rises from his seat for the first time in hours. Shuffle out of the plane. Ignore the happy groups of people breaking off from the crowd. Stare at the luggage carousel until remembering it’s only him and his carry-on backpack stuffed messily with clothes, identification, and a dead handheld console.

Genji continues along with the crowd until his jetlagged mind reacts to the desks and signs he sees along the way. He’s pleasantly surprised at the fact he can actually read the English he sees, albeit with a bit of thought needed. Normally the only English he’s reading is from social media and text messages from his groupies. Reading and writing English were not his strongest abilities in the language. Learning how to speak and listen to English, the slang, the less formal way of speaking: that was his wheelhouse. Genji could blend in with a group of American teenagers with no difficulty. Only he was technically an adult in this country, wasn’t he? Fine by him. He drank and fucked like one anyway.

Hanzo could read whole English novels, write grammatically polished papers, and discuss advanced subjects in English with only a bit of warming up required for the language switch. The tutor they shared had been incredibly proud of the Shimada heir and his mastery of the language at an academic level. The social aspect of English evaded Hanzo, however, with no English-speaking friends of his own to practice with. Hanzo’s English was very formal, a fact Genji teased him relentlessly about while ignoring the fact that he had frustrated their tutor immensely with his lack of reading and writing comprehension at the level he wished for him to achieve. As far as Genji was concerned, as long as he could interact on social media, his English was at the level it needed to be.

As Genji approached the currency exchange counter, he could only admit to himself that his understanding of the sign above it was mostly due to the international symbols of money decorating the sign, plus the small translation on the side in many other languages, including his own mother tongue. But this was practical application, right? The best way to learn was through immersion. And he was as immersed as it was going to get now.

Everything in his wallet exchanged over to just over $200. Was that a lot? A little? He had asked the exchange rate but his jetlagged mind wouldn’t process the information. Even after sitting and dozing for the majority of the long flight, Genji was dying to sit down and rest again already. His stomach growled unhappily. The inflight meals got him through the flight, but he was in need of a real meal. The general information and help booth was nearby and an obvious next stop, but the small restaurant with bar seating that came into view took priority.

The age of adulthood in Japan was 20. However, being the son of a very influential family in the region, Genji was very used to him and his friends being given a large leniency when it came to such legalities. After all, Shimada money flowed freely from Genji’s pockets in Hanamura. What business would say no to his patronage?

The bartender, luckily for Genji, was a good sport about denying his request for a drink. They launched into a conversation while Genji wolfed down his sandwich and fries like a starving man, to the amusement of the bartender with not much else to do. The bar portion of the restaurant was near-empty in these late afternoon hours, and the bartender was used to young foreigners not aware of the legal age for drinking in the United States.

“How can I legally be an adult here but still be so far from drinking legally? That is insane,” Genji argued good-naturedly, finally slowing down his pace to eat the last of his fries leisurely. The bartender laughed, as he did with each of Genji’s quips and questions, re-crossing his arms in front of himself for the thousandth time.

“Pretty sure it’s the same in Japan, isn’t it?” Genji informed him of the legal age, and the bartender scratched his chin in thought. “Well that means you aren’t even an adult in Japan! You drink there, though?” Genji shrugged and nodded. He didn’t really want to get into the subject. He was trying to get _away_ from the Shimada name, after all. “You barely even look 18, kid. That hair of yours screams teenage punk.” Genji ran a hand through the green locks, flashing the man a grin at that. He managed to keep the grin in place even as he briefly remembered his father’s delighted laughter upon seeing the dye job.

Reluctantly, Genji paid for his meal and said his farewell, off in search of the information desk he had seen earlier. As much as he would have rather spent more time chatting and pretending this was all a weird dream, he needed to continue forward. There would be no waking up in his brother’s long-abandoned bed with a glass of water and aspirin next to him. This was still really happening.

Two very bored looking young ladies manned the desk. Their faces lit into big smiles when they saw Genji approach, making him smile in tandem. The hand running through his hair was a natural reaction to the attention, preening as he leaned against the counter. 

“Hello there,” he purred, “I’m looking for a place to stay. Can I come home with you?” They broke out into stunned giggles, and after a moment, he laughed as well. Old habits die hard.

The cuties helped him find a hotel in the city to go to after a lot of flirting and double entendres. One wrote the name of the hotel and its address down for him, blushing brightly when his fingers lingered atop her own when she handed him the piece of paper. Genji reveled in the reaction. Even in a different country, he could pull off being a playboy. He didn’t even have to give his family name to interest them further. And he knew girls in Hanamura turned their heads when powerful families were mentioned to be near. After getting the girls to point out where the ATMs were—just around the corner where the big sign that said ATMs were, apparently—he finally left them, his tongue catching between his teeth as he grinned at them. And just like that, he felt alone all over again.

Genji dug through his backpack as he approached one of the many ATMs lined up against one wall, finding his wallet and nearly spilling all of his clothes onto the ground in the process. He took a moment to lean against the wall at the end of the machines, willing his building frustration to subside. This was far from what he was used to. It wasn’t even about the country he was in, it was merely the fact that he was on his own and the name Shimada meant nothing here. No family, groupies, or attendants to direct or help him, or even just to do everything for him, as he was most used to. No special treatment or averted eyes when he wanted something he shouldn’t have. He wasn’t even out of the airport yet and he was on the verge of being overwhelmed.

Slipping the card from the leather fold into his fingers, he finally moved in front of one of the machines. He was grateful for the expansive language options on the first selection screen, but he knew once he was outside the international airport, there would be no helpful Japanese options everywhere he went. His father had taken him and Hanzo on a few international business trips: Russia, China, South Korea. But those were different. They included personal attendants, bodyguards, guides and translators. Genji never felt lost or confused on those trips because his wealth and name assured his comfort.

Oh! Genji almost laughed at the new realization. His wealth! The worldwide guide to the comfort he was used to. The elders couldn’t take _that_ away from him. In fact, he was going to empty out this particular Shimada bank account he had access to and live just as well as he had before. The fools. Shimada Genji couldn’t be defeated so easily.

Or maybe he could. Genji blinked at the message that had popped up. $500 MAX WITHDRAWAL the machine informed him. Genji had checked the balance before attempting to pull the money out, and he knew there were many, many more digits available to him. With a scoff, he accepted the max amount and stuffed it into his wallet. Fine. He’d simply go to a bank and withdraw it that way. A minor setback in his ingenious plan.

Another trip to the bubbly duo at the information booth revealed his luck was out until tomorrow. It was just past 6 pm, banks were closed for the day. Genji had been surprised to hear it was evening already. It was so bright and sunny when he had come in. How long had he spent chatting and wasting time?

When he got bored of flirting with the two girls (he couldn’t help himself; he had a weakness for blondes), he finally tore himself away to move on. This farewell wasn’t as teasing or playful. Genji needed to get moving or he’d be hanging around the airport forever. And he wanted to see the place he’d dreamed of visiting for a while now. California was where the rich and the famous resided (according to what Genji had seen and heard, anyway), and he wanted to be part of that world. Now he was here, whether he was ready or not. Time to shine.

The bank of waiting cabs was exactly where they told him it would be. Normally there would be a private car waiting to pick up him and his family members. But he had no family here, no help. Luckily a cab driver saw him standing there, looking lost, and called him over, his arm waving out his open window to get his attention. Genji went over to the waiting cab, the driver getting out to meet him. He seemed taken aback for just a moment, noticing Genji had no luggage for him to put in the trunk of his cab.

The driver was kind enough to open the door and let Genji slide into the backseat with his backpack, closing the door behind the young man. Genji’s heart rate picked up as they pulled away, wordlessly handing the man the paper with the hotel’s name and address on it. He was… nervous? Excited? He had hung around the airport for so long it had felt like a safe place, translations available everywhere, many understanding people who were used to foreigners. He wasn’t sure what America was like outside of an international airport. But it was time to find out.

 

\---

 

America was _awesome_.

He was basing this judgement from only his first day there, but what a first impression it was. The hotel staff was super friendly, his hotel room was huge, the stores and restaurants were both very broad and very specific. There was a store just for sunglasses, one just for hats, designer clothing stores and brands Genji had never heard of before. There was even a corner store filled with everything from home goods to video games that attracted his attention. Speaking of video games, he was happy to acquire a new charger for his dead handheld game system so easily. Sure, he had forgotten the word for ‘charger’ in that moment, but the employees had been amused by his frustrated miming and stumbling tongue as he tried to describe what he wanted.

Americans were always depicted as larger and unhealthier in Japan. Genji was baffled to discover that many people he observed here in Sacramento looked healthy, some skinny, some muscular, all easy on the eyes. Of course, still bigger as humans in general. Japan had tall buildings and big cities too, but for some reason Genji still could not help but feel so small here.

America was more obsessed than food than the stereotypes had described. It was everywhere, ranging from simple smoothie bars to lavish restaurants to even mobile food vendors parked by the sidewalks, selling huge varieties of foods that had Genji’s head spinning. He wanted to sample _everything_ ; it all looked and smelled so good, and there was so much of it! It did not take long for his wallet and stomach to succumb easily to several stops before both also begged him to stop.

Genji grimaced into his wallet as he stuffed his change into the leather fold, flipping it shut and shoving it back into his pocket as he grabbed the offered foil-wrapped XL burrito. The advertisement boasted 15 different ingredients within the flour tortilla. Americans were crazy, that stereotype was true, but they were crazy in the most genius ways. Unfortunately, Genji felt like he was blowing through money fast here. The hotel room had taken a good bit of money out of his wallet for a few nights, and the games and food he had bought took another chunk out. But he was happy and full and satisfied with himself.

Genji took the last bite of his burrito as he made it back to his hotel room, groaning in satisfaction. He tossed his shopping bags onto the bed, tossing his body down beside them. He mentally cursed at himself as he thought about the dwindling amount of money in his wallet. The unintentional tourist had been so wrapped up in exploring his surroundings (after sleeping away most of the day due to jet lag) that he had completely forgotten he still needed to empty that bank account he had access to. No matter. He had gotten his first taste of Sacramento out of the way; he would find a bank first thing in the morning.

With the lights turned off with only the light of his handheld in his face as he plays, he can imagine he is still at home, curled up in his own bed. He nods off several times during the third game he’s popped in and finally turns it off, placing it on the nightstand beside him. In this dark quiet the illusion is broken, and he’s left alone with his thoughts.

Without a distraction, they plague him. Twisted images of Hanzo’s scowl, Kimi’s reddening face, Takeshi’s smug smile. Voices without words. Genji falls asleep to the image of his brother drawing his sword on his would-be assassins. He cries out without sound.

 

\---

 

“Frozen?” Genji’s eyebrows draw closer together as he gives the bank teller a confused look. She shifts uncomfortably, giving her computer screen another look as though maybe she _was_ wrong.

“Oh, uh, yes,” she stammers nervously. “The account was frozen a few days ago.” Genji twists his mouth in thought. They probably had it frozen after they had seen him pull the money from the ATM in the account’s activity. That means Hanzo couldn’t stop it, which must mean…

Genji’s stomach did a sour flip at the thought. This was a nightmare and he wasn’t waking up. “I can’t use this account at all?” he asked weakly, already knowing the answer.

“I’m sorry, only certain people can control this account’s status. You have access to its funds but uh, not now. You’ll have to get in touch with the account holders themselves.” Genji resisted the urge to scowl, to scream, to shove his fist through the safety glass in front of him. Instead he puts on a tight smile and thanks the woman before walking away from the counter.

Genji managed to stumble to the few concrete steps leading up to the bank doors before he sat down hard. For the first time in his life, he didn’t have deep, deep pockets to pull any funds he wanted from. He had never experienced a truly empty wallet before—what happened when his money ran out? He already had blown through so much of his funds. He had only booked the hotel for three nights, and had been planning to pay for longer when he emptied the bank account. But now…

The bank account’s activity. That’s how they knew to freeze it. From his activity. They had seen him pull the money from the airport’s ATM. They knew he was in California. They knew, they knew!

Genji was back on his feet and booking it back to his hotel before he could even comprehend that he had gotten up. His name was attached to that hotel booking. It wouldn’t take long for them to mobilize. They could be hiding in the shadows of his room right now, ready to strike him down upon his return. Genji’s blood ran cold at that thought, breaking out into a full run now.

Groping for a knife that wasn’t there, Genji stood in the doorway of his hotel room, staring in. That’s right, he thought distantly, he had to leave his weapons behind. His heart was hammering in his chest. Defenseless, broke, and now about to be a corpse. No, no, that wasn’t true. The corpse part, anyway. That was just his imagination. Genji swallowed, finally entering the room and allowing the heavy door to shut itself behind him.

Packing was easy, quick. He hadn’t really bought more than games and food. He shrugged his backpack on and stood there in the middle of the room, unsure of his next move. There was still one more night to go that he had paid for, and he was certain they wouldn’t refund it. What was he going to do, waste his money further? But he was scared. If he left, it gave the room the chance to get invaded, for trained assassins to be planted, for the room to darken with the setting sun and become a trap. If he stayed, he only had a bag of oddly flavored Doritos he had bought to eat and anxiety to keep him from sleeping or letting his guard down.

With a defeated sigh, the filled backpack was slung off his back and back onto the floor. He slipped his wallet out of his pocket as he sat down, pulling out the contents. He didn’t even know how much money he had left. Genji counted out what he had, gnawing on his lower lip as he thought. He had spent the majority on it on the hotel stay. If he had known he wouldn’t have more money after this, he would have looked for a cheaper hotel to stay in. The expense of a good hotel in the inner city hadn’t phased him when he had booked his stay. Then came the games and the food… and he had maybe gone a bit overboard with those.

He needed some money. And fast.

 

\---

 

Daylight came, banishing the dark dreams once again, but Genji still didn’t have a plan. All he had was the scene replaying in his head from his dreams: Hanzo drawing his sword as the screen door opened, facing down Genji’s would-be assassins. Only this time Genji saw more; Hanzo overpowered and failing, struck down for his insolence, for protecting his dishonorable kin. Blood spraying the backlit screen doors leading to the gardens. The life leaving his brother’s eyes. Genji swiped the tears out of his own eyes, willing himself to sit up and give up on his restless attempts at sleeping any more.

If Hanzo was gone, Genji had no reason to even think about returning. With Sojiro and Hanzo both dead, Genji had no more protection against the vicious nature of his clan. He was the enemy now, unfit to represent the Shimada name. Genji grunted as he forced himself to roll out of bed, wishing desperately for… something. The feeling of a body against his own, warmth in his gut as alcohol made its home in his veins, a dizzy mind and a loose mouth. Something familiar, something he knew. Genji had never been so out of his element for so long.

Genji mulled this over as he got dressed for the hot day, wishing he had some friends to lean on like he would have had easily in Hanamura. He may have never had a meaningful conversation with any of them, but he could always count on them to willingly give up their time and dedicate themselves to him when demanded. They were groupies for a reason; Genji wasn’t blind to their real motives, but he liked the attention, he liked the company, and he liked feeling like the most important person in the room. Even if it was really his money that mattered to them.

Hm… lonely? Was this what that felt like? Genji was wandering as aimlessly through the city now as his mind was, barely taking in his surroundings as he thought. Genji had never just let his mind wander like this. It was odd. Genji didn’t like to think too much. It never yielded desirable results. He could normally just whip out his phone and call someone up if his head got too noisy. Or play video games until his brain melted. And once night fell, he knew he could be free from his thoughts. That’s when the enablers slid out of the woodwork, wrapping arms around his shoulders and taking over his thinking for him. Drink, smoke, fuck, and never think again.

Where was he? Genji startled out of his thoughts, looking around him. He appeared to be in a residential area, only high fences and decorative flora surrounding him and the streets, mostly hiding the two story stucco townhouses from his peering eyes. He paused on the corner of the sidewalk, grasping onto the tall stop sign there as he leaned against it. He had wandered around for the entirety of the morning, intending to think of how to get some cash, and instead ended up lost in his own head and getting lost outside of it as well.

A large red truck rolled up to the corner, strangely close enough to the sidewalk to make Genji’s head turn its direction. The truck’s passenger side window rolled down, revealing a man with a smirk on his face. Genji stared, adjusting his grip on the sign’s pole. The man had stopped, like the sign demanded. Why wasn’t he going now? “Hey babe,” the man rumbled out, grinning when Genji straightened just a bit, “you lookin’ for a good time?”

“No,” Genji shot back, crossing his arms and leaning against the thin steel beside him. What did this guy think? That he was some… wait a second. “Are… Are _you_?” Genji tried to recover the proposition, giving the man the most seductive smile he could muster. He didn’t think he was dressed like a prostitute, but then again, the booty shorts and loose tank top he wore to combat the late summer heat left little to the imagination.

The man snorted, rolling his eyes. “Come on, sweetheart. Hop in and we’ll see what fun we can have together.” Genji hesitated, opting instead to rest his forearms crossed on the open window’s ledge and lean into the truck’s interior slightly.

“My kind of fun does not come cheap,” Genji purred, hoping he wasn’t misreading this situation. English was his second language but that didn’t mean he always read the context of a conversation correctly. He felt a rush of relief when the man only laughed and nodded his head.

“We’ll get that taken care of. But first let’s get acquainted, huh?”

 

 

 

“You’re going to be at the party tonight, right?” the guy asked, re-buckling the belt of his pants as he made himself presentable again. Genji was almost too preoccupied shoving the offered money into his wallet to catch that he was being spoken to. He tilted his head up, brown eyes still watery from the recent assault on his gag reflex. After a while he had started figuring out how to tame it, but it was lucky the guy had seemed into the gagging noises floating up from his lap, regardless.

“What party?” Genji asked, playing with the leather fold between his fingers. Genji’s unexpected company had parked in an alley for their ‘fun’, but was surprisingly nice enough to ask if he needed to take Genji back to where he found him instead of just making him get out into yet another unfamiliar area. Genji had asked to be taken back to his hotel, and the man was nice enough to oblige, driving them there now. What Genji would have _really_ liked to ask is for the guy to reciprocate, but he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t get money for an equivalent exchange.

“The one Eddy’s got going on tonight. You’re working? Or nah?” Genji gave him a blank stare in response. Eddy? Working? At a party? The guy made a sour face, turning away from Genji. “Shit. You don’t work for Eddy and you’re working his turf. You must have a death wish. Or whatever he does to them. You don’t want to get on Eddy’s bad side. Who’s your guy? Does he know you’re working on the wrong corner?”

Genji was getting nervous, fidgeting with the wallet with sweaty fingers. Did he do something wrong? “I don’t understand. I don’t work for anyone. I just…needed some money. Am I in trouble?”

To his surprise, the guy breathed out a sigh of relief. “Well it might be your lucky day, cutie. Eddy’s always got a job opening for a pretty young thing down on their luck.” The truck parked on the curb, prompting Genji to reach for the door handle. The guy muttered out a ‘wait, wait’ as he rummaged through a pile of junk inside the middle console. Genji let out an impatient sigh, staring out the window with his fingers still dwelling on the door’s handle. It felt like forever until the scribbling sound stopped and the guy tapped Genji’s arm with the back of his fingers, offering a small piece of notepaper with an address scribbled across between them. “Find this place tonight. Ask for Eddy. Tell him you need a job.” Genji took the piece of paper without a glance, scowling just a bit.

“I will consider it,” Genji muttered, not considering it at all. Genji couldn’t get out of the truck fast enough when he was finally let go, not looking back as he barreled through the lobby doors of his hotel. As much as he loved a party, he did not love asking for help getting money when he just made some all on his own. Shimada Genji, with a job? Laughable. He scoffed under his breath as he rode up the elevator to his room, ignoring the glances of the nicer-dressed guests in the elevator with him.

He would be just fine on his own.

 

 

 

  
He was not just fine on his own.

Genji had checked out as late as possible, backpack packed up and slung over his shoulder. His plan was to make some money and find a cheap hotel after. From there… he’d figure it out. Genji had never really planned very far ahead in the future before. Life just happened.

The issue with this plan was that Genji wasn’t very adept when it came to sex for money. The first guy he found hadn’t paid as much as Genji had asked, and he had only noticed when he counted his payment after the guy had already driven away. Genji thought he had learned a lesson from that, applying it to the next one who pulled up just around sunset. Counting the money handed to him in the light of the setting sun, Genji had given the guy a smile and a wave as he got out of the car and let him drive away. It was only when he had gone to put the money away in his wallet that he noticed he had been robbed: the wallet’s fold was empty, leaving only his ID behind. The thief had even taken his non-working bank card. He had probably robbed him while Genji was pre-occupied with not getting his face pressed too hard into the hard plastic of the backseat door’s interior as he allowed someone to use him in his favorite way to be used. He had even gotten an orgasm out of it, which might explain why he had been too distracted to notice the heist. His shorts had been yanked down just enough, and his wallet had surely been tempting, bulging out of his back pocket and unwatched by the gasping mess that owned it. He only had to give some of Genji’s own money back to him in the end.

Peculiarly enough, those two and the few others who had approached but not taken the bait all asked him if he was working for Eddy. The few who had decided against Genji’s offered service had seemed deterred by the answer of ‘no’, but the two who had done business with him had smirked in a not so friendly way before discussing anything further.

Genji had spent the night curled around his backpack, tucked away in an alcove of concrete in the cleanest looking space under a low bridge where traffic was sparse. The money he was left with wasn’t enough for a bed anywhere he asked in the inner city, using part of it instead for a cheap meal. He had loitered and eaten slowly while mulling over his situation, reluctant to leave the 24 hour fast food joint. He felt miserable and completely out of his element. California wasn’t the paradise he had been expecting.

The large rumbling SUV that pulled up next to him on the corner of a remote area of the city the next day gave him a bit of hope when they didn’t bother to ask if he worked for Eddy. They simply showed him some money – the largest bill amount he had been offered since attempting to start this little business – and told him it was all his for a simple blowjob while he drove.

Unfortunately for Genji, life was straying further and further from ‘simple’.

 

\---

 

“Tough luck, kid. You don’t know much about this trade, do ya?”

Genji groaned from where he lay on the sidewalk, rolling off his now scraped arm and shoulder to look up at the figure casting a shadow over him. The bright sun beaming down from a clear sky almost felt like a mockery. A perfect day for getting pitched out of a moving vehicle.

“What is there to know?” Genji muttered out angrily, sitting up despite his protesting back. The bruise he surely would have from landing on it before skidding across the concrete along his side would be deep. “You do whatever the guy wants and you get money for it. Or you are _supposed_ to, anyway.” Genji spits the last bit out bitterly, remembering the guy’s laugh when Genji asked for payment. The guy had caught him by surprise, pulling Genji the rest of the way across his lap through an open door and depositing him onto the pavement as he sped away.

“Wrong. Get paid up front: rule number one. I could help you out, you know. I run business like this around this area for a lot of people. I get them customers and make sure they get paid. Only catch is that you gotta stay at my…hotel. Yeah. You get your own room and everything, though. Not a bad gig.” 

The man flashed a grin at Genji and helped him onto his feet. Genji got a good look at a gold tooth, only visible with a wide enough grin. The man was just an inch or so taller than than he was, lithe but solid in build. Tattoos crawled up his neck and down his arms, but that wasn’t an unusual sight for Genji. His family prided itself on covering entire body parts with intricate dragon tattoos. He had a great-uncle among the elders with a black dragon coiling around his neck and trailing off to one shoulder.

“I—“ Genji cut himself off, reconsidering his refusal. He had taken to the street because he was that desperate for money. If he didn’t make enough to get a room for the night, he didn’t know where he would go, where it would be safe to spend his night. And then there was the next night to think about, and the next, and the next. Plus he needed to eat at some point. He had been ignoring the hunger growing in his gut. It was hard enough to get a guy to agree to his proposition. And apparently Genji wasn’t any good at getting them to actually pay up for it. He was willing to put in the work, but getting tossed out of a moving vehicle had him thinking this wouldn’t be as easy as he thought.

“I just do not know what else to do,” Genji confided in the stranger, wincing as he brushed loose asphalt rocks that had embedded themselves in his arm. “I am almost out of money and I can’t work in this country legally.” _Actually_ , Genji thought, _I haven’t really worked a day in my life. I don’t know if I actually could_.

“Well think of me as your guardian angel, sweetheart. You can just call me Eddy, though. I came around right when you were down on your luck, right? That’s gotta be a sign. Let me help you out. It’s the easiest work in the world with the right manager. And, uh, that could be me, couldn’t it?”

There was that gold-accented grin again. It was almost charming, even if it felt exaggerated. Genji gave him a small smile, nodding in agreement. He should have listened when he was told to seek this infamous Eddy out. He was a generous guy, from what Genji was gathering.

Eddy let out a laugh, clapping a hand on Genji’s sore back. “Great! You know your way around? I got a place a few blocks away you can come meet me at with your things. We’ll get you all settled and working in no time. I’ll help you rake in some good cash, don’t you worry your pretty lil head over that.”

 

\---

 

A pimp. That’s what he was. Genji wouldn’t hear the word until much later, when he would be relaying this story to a small circle of people in a brightly lit room and wishing the creep three seats over would stop eyeballing him like a piece of meat. People would ask him why it wasn’t obvious something bad was happening when he got to this part. Apparently “I was out on the street with absolutely no money to my name” was not a valid excuse for submitting himself to a prostitution ring.

It wasn’t that the setup wasn’t sketchy looking. It was. When Genji found the place the pimp told him to find him at, he was looking at a decades-old boarded up motel front on a near-abandoned street corner. The stucco exterior might have been a cheery orange or yellow in its prime, welcoming guests from near and far, but it was a cracked, sun-bleached yellow now, the name of the motel in blue and white painted on a broad section of wall now too faded and chipped to read.

The only visible doorway to the inside was boarded over with a large piece of plywood, some 2x4s nailed over it for good measure. The accompanying windows had the same treatment, even up on the second floor above him. A lightbulb flickered against the fading light of the day’s sun on the corner of the building, the static buzzing from it gaining Genji’s attention. There was an alleyway next to it blocked off by a tall, sagging wooden gate that had a faded ‘employees only’ sign nailed to it. Rust from the nails leaked down the sign, showing its age. But the small white symbol painted by the flimsy-looking metal handle on the gate looked new, or at least well-kept. Interesting.

Genji took a chance and pulled the creaking gate open, checking over his shoulders for anyone who might be watching some poor, confused Japanese kid skulking around these seemingly abandoned buildings. With the street clear of people who might shout, “hey you, what are you doing?”, he slipped inside the alleyway. The door’s rusty spring attachments on this side ensured the door slammed shut behind him, making him jump in surprise. At the middle of the cool, darkened alley was a bright red door with an orb-like camera on one side, watching any activity going on in the alley from the wooden gate to the doorway it was next to. Genji swallowed a nervous lump in his throat. He had been in plenty of sketchy places like this in Hanamura, but normally there was a party happening at them. The newer technology and fresh paint on the door gave away that this wasn’t an abandoned building. It was very much in use. He was in the right place.

Before Genji’s knuckles could rap against the door, it opened partially to reveal a tall, bald man with a _very_ mean look on his face. Genji froze up at the sudden appearance, hand still in the air and poised to knock. After a few intense moments where time seemed to stand still as the man glared down at him, Genji heard, “Christ, Sergio, I told you to bring the kid in, not scare him off!” from the interior. Genji’s moment of relief at Eddy’s familiar voice hardly lasted a second before a big hand fisted his shirt and yanked him inside.

Genji felt like he had been on the world’s shortest roller coaster once he was released, dropping a few inches from the air where the man had snatched him up. He had dropped right onto his feet and nearly bounced away, regaining his composure and shaking off the dizziness of the strange interaction. 

“Sorry about that. Sergio don’t know gentle. He’s paid to be muscle and he’s a little too good at it.” Eddy was sitting on a counter, one that looked like it used to be a check-in area, in front of him. Genji chanced a look back to the hulking man next to him, surprised to find Sergio grinning sheepishly down at him. He accepted the heavily accented ‘sorry’ with a grin of his own. The big guy wasn’t so bad. It reminded him of a much rougher, foreign-sounding Ken.

That thought got pushed away quickly.

“Welcome to the motel. Sorry things are a bit, uh, dated, but it’s mine and it’s perfect for our little business here. The,” Eddy twirled a hand in the air, searching for a term other than the one that must have come to mind, “ _workers_ here kind of work in shifts. Half are available during the day, half at night. Gotta stay in your room and wait for business when you’re ‘on shift’, but you’re free to roam and visit with the others at other times. If you need to get something or get some grub, I require you go with Jolene or one of the other girls I trust.” Genji raised an eyebrow at that, adjusting the backpack hanging from his shoulder. Eddy gave a reassuring smile at that. “It’s for safety purposes. People ain’t so nice to working ladies—er, and men—out there in the real world.”

“I thought perhaps I could do something more… like what he does,” Genji admitted sheepishly, gesturing to Sergio. “I am trained for defense and assassination. Surely I can be useful as security?”

Eddy and Sergio stared at him for a solid few seconds before both laughing, Eddy shaking his head as though he had just heard something ridiculous. “You wanna be muscle? Seriously? I thought you were lookin’ for a job on your back. I can only assume the kind of services you were providin’ that guy that tossed you out of that truck wasn’t _security detail_.” Eddy grinned as Sergio laughed harder hearing that, and Genji had never felt so embarrassed in his life. Not that there were many times he had ever felt embarrassed. He was known for being a bit shameless, after all.

“Look, a guy with a pretty face and a body like yours, you’re worth more using those than your strength. I mean look at Sergio here. I’d have to be the one paying people if they opened the door and saw this ugly motherfucker waiting there for them.” Genji didn’t laugh at their little joke, letting them continue to chuckle while he thought about it. He _was_ pretty, and he _was_ a good fuck (though maybe that was just his opinion). It wasn’t like he was opposed to it, when he really thought about it. He just always thought…

“I thought this line of work was for women. No one wants to buy a man’s body,” Genji said, frowning still.

Eddy scoffed, to his surprise. “What are you talkin’ about? Men have been sellin’ their bodies as long as women have. True, it’s not as common, but that doesn’t mean you won’t be in demand. Believe me, pretty boys with pretty bodies provide the same thing a man’s looking for in a woman. They just have a tighter hole to fuck.” Genji sputtered at the last comment, not sure if he should laugh or blush. 

“Just tell me about the job. What exactly do I need to do?” 

The men in the room chuckled at that, Sergio’s low timbre bouncing off the tiled floors and stone walls. Genji’s face heated up at their reaction. He wasn’t dumb, but there had to be more than just offering sex. That was just a normal Friday night to him. 

“When a John comes in, they get told who we got available for whenever they come in. They take their pick, we send them to the room of the lucky girl—or guy. Me, Sergio, or Jolene gives the phone in your room a ring, and we tell you what they paid for. If the guy tries to tell you any different, send ‘em out. You give the service and that’s all you gotta do. They can stick around to catch their breath or call their wife and lie about why he’s gonna be late for dinner, but don’t let ‘em hang out or spend the night.” Eddy explains this with gesturing hands and an annoying habit of tilting his head back and forth. He has some sort of accent, but Genji couldn’t place it if he tried. He knew about American regional accents, but he didn’t know the distinctions. Either way, it was nasally and starting to grate on Genji’s nerves.

“Sounds easy enough.” Genji felt nervous, despite his calm, almost bored exterior. Eddy nodded in agreement to that statement, grinning wide yet again.

“Oh yeah. It’s an easy way to make a livin’. I keep your earnings in the office and if you don’t come ask for ‘em early first, I give ‘em out on Sundays. The girls do well here. We got another guy here, Richard, but he mostly does parties. You stick around, you get to work parties too. The girls like those, I’m sure you would too. I got a vacant room for you to settle into, room 208. It’s up the stairs, out in the courtyard you’ll find through the door behind you. Now, I can’t always be ‘round here. Sergio’s usually in here or out in the courtyard if he’s on duty. You need help and it ain’t about a John, tell Jolene, not me. Room 211.”

 

\---

 

Genji settled in easier than expected.

The room looked like a standard hotel room. At least, Genji figured it did. He was used to larger, more lavish lodgings when he had traveled with his father and Hanzo on business. The room was small, with a sink against the back wall on a chipped counter and a tiny bathroom with a toilet and tub with a rusted showerhead and faucet. There was no closet, not that Genji needed one, but there was a dingy dresser (the bottom drawer was jammed and couldn’t be forced open, he would discover) with an ancient looking TV on top of it. The bed was a full sized bed, with thin, scratchy sheets and comforter, only slightly more comfortable than the small, well-worn and atrociously upholstered armchair in the corner of the room. Next to the armchair was a window with thin curtains, facing out into the courtyard. It seemed to kill the privacy factor but Genji supposed he was grateful for the natural light source, considering the windows he saw on the outside earlier had been boarded up tight. There was a tiny bedside table with an old, dusty lamp plugged in on it, but not much else besides that. Not that the room would really hold anything else. There was just enough room for two, maybe three people to comfortably stand around.

Genji wasn’t expected to be working until tomorrow, starting with ‘day’ shifts (which was more like noon to early evening). Meeting some of the other workers had gone better than he could have expected. He had merely walked out of his room when the sun had started to set, his stomach demanding food after spending his time trying to figure out how to adjust the foil-wrapped antennae attached to the TV to get the channels to come through the clearest, and he had gotten swept up with a large group of girls heading out of the motel to get something to eat themselves. They had been incredibly welcoming of him into their group, acting as familiar and flirty as his groupies had once been. It soothed a distant ache in his heart he hadn’t noticed before.

An older woman with yellowed hair watched after them, trudging behind the group. Jolene, from what Genji gathered. The girls called her by name when they poured into a fast food restaurant, asking what she wanted to eat. One of the girls had paid for it all, waving away Genji’s concern about paying for his own. “We take turns paying. We’ll let you know when it’s your turn, newbie,” she had told him, smiling with half of her mouth.

The bags of food had been lugged back to the motel, the small crowd of them laughing and talking loudly the entire way. They passed by a few men, either headed in or out of their building, and all gave flirty hellos and waves as they made their way to the worn and faded chairs and tables clustered together in the center of the stone courtyard.

“Even if you’re not working, make yourself known to the customers and they’ll come back requesting you. Guaranteed way to keep your cash flowing,” the girl handing out the food from the bags explained to Genji, noticing his raised eyebrows when their flirting had started up. “I know you got a dick and all, but you’re one of us girls now. And us girls look out for each other. You understand me?” Genji nodded, smiling before chowing down on his food like the rest of them.

Maybe things weren’t so bad.

 

 

 

  
The girls had liquor, thank God. Genji had been sober for far too long. It wasn’t a party or anything, more like just a bunch of tired-looking women drinking, sharing bottles of vodka and whiskey they drank straight out of, but Genji was getting tipsy and that was good enough for him.

“Is this a common ritual?” Genji asked, passing off the bottle that had come his way. The girls tittered out their laughter at that.

“Honey, if we’re not getting drunk or high by the end of the night, it’s because we’re dead,” one of them answered before taking a long drink of whiskey for herself. The other girls agreed loudly and good-naturedly, only laughing louder.

Genji peered around the room – they had all crammed themselves into one of the girl’s rooms on the bottom floor, sitting on every surface available to get all of them in there – and only saw girls passing bottles. No drugs as far as he could see. He voiced this observation and got more giggles.

“Usually we do all that in private. Or just to get to sleep, or avoid it. It’s hard, some nights,” a softer voiced woman said, smiling distantly.

“Or some of us do it when we wake up, or between clients. Hell, sometimes that’s a meal instead. We don’t judge. But we don’t try to be obvious about it either,” another added on, crossing her arms as she spoke.

No one mentioned specifics, and Genji didn’t push to find out. Drugs could be anything. Genji had tried some things before. The Americans that hung around always managed to sneak in something, or find it somehow, and shared it eagerly with Genji and his crew in attempts to impress them. Genji’s family dealt in some drugs, but only in the distribution portion. No one touched the product between the manufacturing and selling. If anyone _was_ dipping in, it wasn’t known to Genji. But he had tried ecstasy and weed mostly, maybe a few bumps of coke if Genji was hanging with a certain crowd some nights. It was fun when he tried it, but he had never made it a habit. Sex and alcohol were more his speed.

Smoking had never been a habit for Genji either, only indulging when others wanted to. But he was back outside at some point, now on the second floor’s walkway leaning against the metal railing, on his third cigarette and feeling sick. He still had a pleasant buzz from the shared alcohol, but it was beginning to fade. It had gotten late, and on his way back to his room he had been stopped by two neighboring girls and Jolene to continue chatting. They all smoked like chimneys, back to back cigarettes, as they talked. Genji was having trouble keeping up, something he normally didn’t have issue with.

The two girls finally dismissed themselves and retired to their rooms, leaving only Genji and Jolene to stand there. Genji picked at the peeling latex paint chipping off the railing while he tried to avoid the older woman’s stare.

She seemed like she had many things she wanted to tell him. Maybe she had some solid, sage advice for him, being new, or a warning for him about the way things were around here. Instead, she snuffed out her cigarette against the white stucco wall, exhaling the smoke in her lungs quickly before speaking.

“Get some rest. You’ll need it. The first day is always the hardest.”

Genji watched her go the short walk down to her own room and disappear before turning and stepping into his own room. He tried to heed her words and get some sleep, but it took nearly an hour of restless tossing and turning to get there. _The first day is always the hardest_. What was so hard about sex?

 

\---

 

The mattress beneath him could only be described in unpleasant terms. Stiff. Hard. Lumpy? It wasn’t his own, that was for sure. Who had he ended up with last night to end up in a bed like this? He didn’t end up in a lower class bed often. That might have been an elitist thing to think, but it was the truth. He thinks he must have had a _lot_ to drink last night to end up here…but no, he felt fine. No hangover. Genji finally opened his eyes, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling. He hadn’t been here before. No, wait.

The young dragon sat up and took in his surroundings as the last week or so caught up to him. Alone again, in a less than ideal bed, in much less than luxurious surroundings. A cold pit of dread settled in his stomach. Or maybe it was just the greasy fast food disagreeing with him.

After a few minutes of self pity, Genji finally pulled himself out from underneath the uncomfortable blankets, hissing in discomfort at the soreness his back was experiencing from the mattress as well as his run-in with the sidewalk the other day. His mood was going south quickly, grumbling underneath his breath as he wedged himself into the tiny bathroom. It was… disgusting. If they had cleaned up the place before he came here, it was truly minimal effort. The yellow bulb that buzzed insistently above his head did nothing to help the appearance of grime in the toilet and shower or dust caked onto the floor in the corners and behind the toilet. For a moment Genji wondered about maid service before realizing what a dumb thought that was. But the fact of the matter was, Shimada Genji did not clean, cook, or really do anything that took care of himself and required more skill than money.

An adventurous spirit encouraged Genji to leave the room, explore, socialize. But the alarm clock on the tiny bedside table informed him in bright red numbers that it was 2 in the afternoon, and he was expected to stay in the room. Genji scoffed as he exited the bathroom, ignoring how weakly the toilet flushed, and was about to put his attention to the old television on the dresser when the phone beside his clock rang.

Genji could only stare at first. It was time. Was he even ready? Should he have prettied himself up a bit more, first? He hadn’t even had the opportunity to shower. He looked down at himself, still dressed down for bed in form-fitting boxer briefs and a tank top. There was no point in changing now, he supposed. It wasn’t like there was a uniform for fucking.

His body barely felt there as it crossed the room, snatching up the receiver before the last ring could finish. “Ah…?” was all he could get out before Eddy’s annoying nasally tone cut in.

“You don’t speak English. You’re shy. You’re impressed by big American cock.”

Genji blinked at the phone’s receiver in his hand. Did he hear that right? “Um…what?” He finally responded.

“It’s your character, kid. Told this guy we had you here new and he offered extra for you. We told him you don’t speak English though. He likes the exotic foreign type.” Genji wrinkled his nose a bit at that, but Eddy’s voice kept rattling on. “Look, just play the part and you get a bonus. And he paid for two goes at you. It’s your first customer and you’re already about to make good cash. So play the part and hook ‘em so he keeps coming back. Oh, and make sure he wears a condom. All that shit is in the bedside table drawer.” The phone clicked and the connection was cut before he could even register the situation fully.

Genji was trying to figure out how to call back when a knock was rapped out on the thin door to his room. His nerves flared suddenly, making him swallow back sudden nervousness. No time to protest or refuse. His first ever customer was here.

The door opened before Genji could move his feet. He looked over his shoulder at the man peering in, who was taking in the barely dressed sight before him. _You don’t speak English_ , Genji reminded himself as he turned, tucking his chin closer to his chest for an effect. _And you’re shy_.

“Oh wow. You’re cuter than I thought you’d be. The hair is doing something for me. But you don’t have a clue what I’m saying, right, honey?” The man was annoyingly cocky as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. No lock, Genji noted without interest. He took in the man before him: short gray hair, dressed like he had just left a casual business luncheon, gaudy gold rings and a watch to match. Genji’s face burned at the age difference. He had never been with someone so much older before.

“ _I can’t believe I’m doing this_ ,” Genji responded in his mother tongue, looking towards the ground when the man grinned happily in response.

“Don’t look so shy, sweetheart. I’ll show you a good time. Let’s get these clothes off of you.”

 

 

 

 _You’re impressed by big American cock_. Genji had almost forgotten that bullet point when the man had him naked on the bed, clothes discarded somewhere on the floor where he had once been standing. The man’s pants had come off, and by the look on his face he was obviously expecting a reaction. Luckily for Genji, his silent staring before he remembered his ‘character’ was a pleasing start.

“Uh… Wow,” he had finally managed to respond, finally averting his eyes. “ _I think I’m actually disappointed the stereotype wasn’t true_.” Genji’s Japanese remark fell on deaf ears, though the cock in front of him twitched at the sound of it. Ugh.

Ken had been about the same size, but much thicker. Takeshi was certainly bigger. This guy… he was barely bigger than Genji. Not that Genji was particularly small. He just wasn’t particularly big, either. Genji kept his opinions off his face, smiling as much as he could muster up at the man standing before him.

The man got closer, and Genji tried not to flinch when the man tapped his side and asked him to turn over, making a vague gesture that he supposed thought translated well enough. All for the better. Genji didn’t want to look at this guy anymore. The bedside drawer came into view as Genji flipped himself, reminding him that while he liked casual sex as much as the next guy, he _did_ believe in the importance of safe sex. His father’s embarrassing sit down lecture (which Hanzo was horrified to be a part of) on the dangers of STDs and risk of pregnancy had drilled the message in his brain. Sojiro had somehow ensured the condoms in Genji’s wallet stayed mysteriously well stocked, most likely instructing the cleaning staff to slip them in while the sparrow slept his nights off heavily until mid-afternoon most days.

To Genji’s relief, the man accepted the condom and lube he fished out and handed over without comment, only sparing a chuckle under his breath that Genji privately frowned at with his face turned away. The tearing of the foil wrapper and the plastic pop of the lube’s cap opening were almost as loud as Genji’s rapid heartbeat in his ears in the tiny room. The bed groaned under new weight, and Genji couldn’t suppress the gasp that pushed itself from his chest when he felt his guest’s slicked and wrapped cock tease between his cheeks, a hand pulling one aside roughly. He instinctively pushed his hips back just slightly, feeling some pride at the groan it drew out from behind him. This wasn’t so difficult. He might even enjoy it, despite the disappointing preview he had gotten earlier.

The surge of encouraged enthusiasm died just as quickly as it had swelled when the larger man’s body draped itself over his bent form, hairy arms trapping Genji on either side as they mostly supported his weight in this new position. His cock pushed more insistently towards its goal and Genji whined without meaning to. It wouldn’t be the first time he took cock without real prep (don’t remember Ken, not now) but he had thought his overeager customer would have been a bit more careful in not breaking his rented toy—

“Relax, sweetheart, just relax. No need for all that tensing up, now.”

“ _Easy for you to say_ ,” Genji managed to grit out in the least agonized voice possible before drawing in a breath, willing his body to do just as commanded. His eyes shut at the hot breath against his ear, his neck, cooing out praises that only made his skin crawl.

To his credit, Genji managed to mostly muffle his shouts when the pace was a bit faster than anticipated.

 

 

 

The hot hand rubbing his sweaty back was not a comfort, especially when Genji realized the man was tracing the dragon on his back. Genji only curled himself up tighter on his side, muttering what he’d really like to say to the guy under his breath.

“Such a fierce tattoo for a sweet little thing like you. Huge piece. Must have taken some long days.” The dragon was fierce and coiled to snap up his enemies in his great, powerful jaws, but unfortunately, it wasn’t able to come to Genji’s rescue in this dire time. The young man shuddered under the intimate attention, feeling nausea churn his stomach. And Genji was normally very receptive to attention. In this instant, however, he could only feel disgust. Not only for the man petting him like an animal, but for the act he had just engaged in. And oh, he _ached_. As unimpressed as he had been to see his dick, the enthusiasm had made up for the damage it could do. He would be happy when the guy finally decided to leave…

“Don’t drift off on me there, cherry blossom. We’ve still got another round to go.” The man shifted away, only to be seen sitting on the edge of the bed once Genji looked back over his shoulder at him. “C’mon doll. Help me get excited again. Come show me you want it.”

Genji had just managed to turn his face away again before the array of emotions crossed his mind and his face. Shock, disgust, frustration. Another round! He had forgotten. A shaky breath in, out, and Genji could find the strength to roll off the bed onto his feet, smiling as though he enjoyed the idea of this disgusting man’s cock spearing him open yet again, and walk around to where the man sat. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, but it didn’t matter to his customer. Big hands with those gaudy gold rings snatched at a wrist and a hip as soon as he was close enough and forced him to straddle the white hairy thighs in front of him. Luckily the man was already half hard, with a fresh condom wrapper and the tube of lube sitting beside him. It took only a few feigned shy looks and a bit of ‘accidental’ grinding to start round two. Genji had learned from their previous tryst that it only took some shouted Japanese curses to rev this guy’s engine and speed up the ‘fun’, and he would definitely be using that information to his advantage yet again.

The sooner he could get this over with, the better. And he never thought he’d say that about sex.

 

\---

 

It’s a blessed relief when the door shuts and Genji is left alone. He could almost pass out from the exhaustion of having to be an active participant in the near hour it took to get the man off for a second time. Except he’s still expected to be available, so he can’t pass out. Well, that, and the fact that he’s hard. Embarrassingly so. As disgusted and repulsed as he could claim to be, the need for a release was loud in his mind. Worst of all, as much as his first customer absolutely reveled in his ‘exotic fantasy’ being fulfilled, he seemed to pay no mind to Genji’s pleasure at all.

Almost reluctantly, Genji takes himself in hand and tosses the forearm of his free arm over his eyes. Maybe he had been too enthusiastic with his exaggerated moans, and the guy thought he hadn’t needed the help. Or maybe he really was just that selfish, taking his pleasure from Genji like he was truly a fucktoy.

Shit. Why did that kind of turn him on? In the moment he was fucking miserable. But now, thinking on it in that way…

Genji felt his groan reverberate in his chest as his dick throbbed in his hand, picking up the pace. If he was being perfectly honest, it was incredibly rare that he masturbated. Maybe in the shower in the morning once or twice, a few times when he hit puberty, before the girls were practically piling on him and his natural charm. But he had no need for it. Sexual partners had never been hard to find for a Shimada waving his yen around. But normally, they actually _wanted_ him to come.

Gritting his teeth, Genji eventually brought himself to orgasm, though it felt… dull? Like a chore? He couldn’t even call it relief. But he just knew he had needed it. As much as he hated himself for it in the end.

 

\---

 

_It is tradition_.

That was the only reason he was given. He gripped Hanzo’s hand tighter as the car came to a stop in front of the old shack, miles and miles away from the busy city.

_This shop has woven our protectors into our skin for as long as our clan has existed. There has been no Shimada without a guardian_.

Why now? Couldn’t he wait? He was only 16.

_Hanzo was 16 when he received his. I was 16 when I was gifted mine. The same for the entirety of our family_.

Genji didn’t care about the clan’s reputation, or tradition, or whatever they wanted to call it. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted the stupid tattoo. He had supported Hanzo through getting his and pretended not to notice the twitching muscles, the grit teeth, the cold sweat and clammy skin as both artist and canvas worked for hours on end for several days, over several sessions.

_This isn’t about upholding reputation. This is your place, Genji. You are a Shimada and you must make the sacrifices we have all made_.

Sojiro would hear no more from his youngest son. Sojiro may have spoiled the boy and let him run free, but in front of the council he was measured and unwavering. Especially when it came to things of this nature. Genji could escape duty but he could not escape tradition. Without prompting, Hanzo had taken his brother’s arm and guided him out to the black car waiting outside the gates for them. Genji laced their fingers together once the door shut out the rest of the world, sniffling and trembling with anger and fear.

“Genji,” Hanzo sighed out almost immediately at the display, his patience sounding thin, “You must stop this nonsense. You are not a little boy anymore. No one will coo and fawn over your tears.” A pause, then more quietly, “Mother is not here anymore.”

Genji had angrily tossed his apparently unsupportive brother’s hand out of his grip, curling up in the seat and fuming silently the entire way. Well, almost. As soon as the city was gone from around them and the open country was exposed, Genji had snatched Hanzo’s hand back into his. The elder simply snorted and allowed the childish behavior.

Sojiro wasn’t the only one guilty of spoiling the sparrow.

But now they had arrived, and Hanzo had released his hand to get out when the driver dutifully opened the door for them. Genji was left to stare at his brother’s offered outstretched hand to help him out, dread pooling in his stomach like ice water.

The buzz of the tattoo gun was loud and persistent behind Hanzo.

 

\---

 

“—ji? Are you still in there? We’re leaving to get some dinner.”

“Just let that boy be. I got a protein bar or somethin’ he can catch later.”

There was a pause and sound of someone passing by before a rapid series of knocks tapped against the door. Suddenly Genji was back to himself, aware of the used and tied condoms tossed haphazardly on the bedside table as well as the cold and crusting spend pooled on his flat stomach. He managed to croak out a call that he was on his way, clearing his throat the best he could and correcting himself to English after the tiny ‘huh?’ behind the door.

His head felt stuffed full of cotton and his limbs felt heavy and uncooperative as he clumsily staggered towards the bathroom. There was a sparse two towels and two washcloths sitting on the toilet tank. They were thin and rough but a washcloth, some questionable-quality water, and some quick scrubbing got him mostly clean. Pulling on yesterday’s clothes only took a quick minute, and he was soon opening the door and peering out. A girl was waiting there, leaning against the railing, and looked surprised to actually see him come out.

“Oh! Come on! They already left and we need to catch up!”

No comment on how rough he must have looked. He almost felt disappointed, like he needed some sort of affirmation.

Instead, the girl grabbed his arm and half-dragged him out, forcing him to keep up with her as she guided him past the lobby and out to the alley. They saw the backs of the girls leaving, which renewed their fast pace, half-running to catch up. “Nadine!” the girl complained loudly, letting go of Genji’s arm to wrap herself around another girl’s. “Why didn’t you wait for us?”

Nadine grunted and tried to shake her off, annoyance written all over her face. “Girl, I just had a slowass business day and now you wanna jump all over me like that. Go bother the new guy.”

The girl whined but relented, dropping back in the group to where Genji was trailing behind, nervousness written all over his face. “I’m Macy,” the little blonde told him, unprompted, “and I already know you’re Genji. There’s been a lot of buzz about having a new boy.”

Could have fooled him. Everyone seemed content to ignore him and everyone else in the group as they walked, mostly silently, towards wherever they were dining tonight. Would it be In-n-Out? Taco Casa? McDonalds? The gourmet opportunities for their thin wallets were limitless the deeper they got into the city.

“Everyone’s grouchy because it was slow today. But it’s Tuesday, y’know? They’re always slow. But slow means no cash flow. So I get it.” What a little chatterbox. Genji liked her already. He wasn’t in the mood to talk either, but she didn’t seem to mind. Her weight against his arm as they walked was grounding. It was easier to forget what had happened today with her distracting voice.

She was silent as soon as she had a breakfast burrito in her face (ignoring the fact that it was nearly 6 pm), though she was the only one eating ravenously. Most others ate slowly, if not just picking at their food, trying to work up the stomach to eat. A few didn’t even order, choosing instead to stare into space or talk softly amongst others. Genji had found it strange at the time, but understood their behavior much better as time passed and he found himself in their shoes.

“So, new guy, how was your first day?” a woman at the table beside them asked, eating her fries without much enthusiasm, like it was a chore to eat. The rest of the group was smiling now, interested in his answer. Genji ignored the low pain in his gut and cleared his throat, trying to look more interested in his cheap burger.

“I only had one, uh… customer? So it wasn’t too… bad…” Genji muttered, struggling for words. The women around him tittering didn’t help. He took a too-big bite out of his burger to keep more words from tumbling out of his mouth.

“He had your favorite, Nadine,” one of them said, cackling at her own joke. Nadine growled and flipped a hand in the air dismissively, her glittering manicure stunning with her brown skin.

“You can keep ‘im! Total creep. That man pays good but ugh. Having to take that sad excuse of a cock is one thing. Having to listen to him talk is another!” The group rang out in laughter, uncaring for the other patrons staring in surprise at the noise. Surprisingly, Genji found himself laughing as well. Nadine rolled her eyes and smiled, something that seemed rare for her. “If you learn what he likes and exploit it, he’s worth it, though. Just takes a lot of mental preparation and a little extra help from whatever I got in my stash to get through it.”

Genji nodded, feeling his shoulders relax. The girls could be abrasive but they weren’t mean. They were obviously more than willing to give him advice. And he needed that right now.

“How do you deal with, ah…” The interest of the women around him renewed, making him nervous. “not... getting to enjoy it?” No laughter this time.

“What, not getting to come, you mean?” one girl behind him piped up. “Oh honey, women have been dealing with that for as long as mankind has existed. But the short answer is some private time and vibrators.” _That_ got the girls howling with laughter again. Genji was surprised to see Macy shaking her head, her cheeks red. A whore blushing. How cute.

The mood was much lighter as they trailed back to the ‘hotel’, the girls discussing their plans. Jolene had appeared at random on their way back – or had she been there the whole time? Those of them that had mentioned needing a fix on an empty stash had followed her up to her room once they returned, the remaining group either dispersing or hanging around a radio turned on in the middle of the courtyard.

Macy hung around him the entire night, which he didn’t mind. Without plans to go out or make trouble, he didn’t really know what to do with himself. He stayed in the courtyard with a group of the girls, drinking shared booze again until he ended up dancing for hours with Macy and the younger crowd. It was like a mockery of his past life. But it was enough.

When he ended up in Macy’s room, he wasn’t sure. They had stumbled in together, still dancing and laughing. Genji thinks he’s tripped when he feels himself land on her bed, bouncing a bit off the stiff mattress and sprawled on his back, but the look in her eye as she nears him tells him he must have been shoved. A grin spread across his face as she sloppily straddled him, managing to not knee him in the balls by just a few inches in the process. It was all comforting in the oddest way. Being too intoxicated to care about anything, the loud music and dancing, and now even a casual hookup. It wasn’t his old life, but it was enough to keep him from facing reality.

And that’s all he needed.

Macy leaned over him to her bedside table, giggling when he pushed his face into the breasts not but an inch from brushing his nose. “You’re right about the not getting to enjoy it part. But I guess there’d be no reason to pay us if it was about our pleasure, too.” She sat back up, condom in hand. “But we can always help each other out at the end of the day.” Genji felt himself nod, maybe a bit too enthusiastically, though the erection pressing against her ass was probably enough confirmation for her.

Even drunk, he could still feel the dull pain from earlier today. That guy really did a number on him. Genji grunted as he sat up, keeping her in place with hands on her hips. “I don’t know if I’m going to be one hundred percent for this,” he admits, “Today was rough.” Macy shook her head and pushed him back down, making his vision spin for a split second. She began tugging her clothes off without a hint of shyness.

“Just lay back. I’ll take care of you.” Genji could only nod dumbly once she got a hand on the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down as well.

 

 

 

The details of it all would be fuzzy, later. He knows they managed to get the condom on after a lot of fumbling. He knows he gasped embarrassingly loud when she lowered herself quickly onto him. He definitely knows he felt much less stressed after he came. And from the tacky feeling left on his face, he can only assume that he returned the favor. He could only vaguely remember her shuffling up his body to his waiting mouth. But he couldn’t remember after that. He had woken only minutes ago, still laying on the side of the bed like he would sit up any minute, her body curled up to his and breathing softly.

He tried not to grunt too loudly as he detangled her from himself, sitting up and feeling the beginnings of a hangover. He was still a tiny bit buzzed but it was fading fast. Luckily the condom had already been pulled off and tossed away at some point, though his dick still felt sticky with the cheap lube that came coated on the condom already. He’d have to take care of that later. Macy groaned when he stood to pull up his shorts, pressing her hands to her temple.

“Fuck… Time?” she muttered, wincing as she pulled herself to a better position on the bed, moving her comforter aside to slide under. Genji frowned, looking at the too-bright digital alarm clock. Just past 5 am. He relayed this back to her. He was expecting it to go like most of his one night stands: the girl whining about him not staying, begging him to come back to bed, giving him those puppy dog eyes. Instead Macy grunted and buried her head under a pillow. “Good. I have time to sleep it off before shift starts, then. Bye.”

Genji blinked. He supposed he shouldn’t question it. He had been dreading the exact opposite, after all. “Bye,” he murmured in return, giving her form one last look before slipping out of her room, disoriented for a second as he tried to figure out where he was in the courtyard. Her room was on the first floor, under the walkway for the second story rooms. He ignored some women chuckling at the sight of him walking back to his room. The walk of shame wasn’t unfamiliar to him. Hell, his own family had seen him strutting back home in rumpled club clothes plenty of times.

This place might just be bearable with a fuckbuddy. If that’s what that even was, anyway. It could have also just been a mistake. Genji couldn’t really find it in himself to care one way or another. He was satisfied… well he was pretty sure he was.

As uncomfortable as the bed was, Genji was happy to be in it once he reached his room. Sleep came fitfully but it came. Nightmares followed but they wouldn’t be remembered by the time he could think about anything past his pounding headache and slight nausea. He woke several times, not bothering to do more than groan and twist himself into a new position before falling back asleep.

The phone started to ring at some point, and Genji’s eyes flew open.

 

\---

 

Genji loved sex. He loved the way people tasted on his tongue, the involuntary noises that spilled from lips and throats, the minute twitching that a particular jolt of pleasure could produce. He loved the smudging makeup and wild hair, the sweat-slick skin and even the lewd noises that came from two bodies joining. Sex was a drug, an escape, an experience unique in itself.

Sex was Genji’s favorite pastime until he was getting paid for it.

No, this couldn't be sex. Even casual sex involved a little regard for the other person. This was selfish self-pleasure, masturbation with a breathing sex toy. Genji felt raw by the third day, when he was given a night shift, unable to control his limping gait as he trailed behind the pack of girls on their mission to feed themselves at 6 am once his shift was over. They took pity on him and slowed their pace, some giving advice as they noticed the new boy’s state. Prep yourself before you receive customers, dictate the position and pace if they'll give you the chance, keep practicing your fake moans so they don't get too rough trying to elicit genuine noises out of you. It was the strangest thing to discuss in the breaking dawn in a fast food parking lot: how to take bodily abuse easier.

And it was abuse. There was nothing truly pleasurable about fingernails digging red paths into his skin as the men who came into his room tested his limits. His scalp had gotten sensitive from the hair pulling -- something he had actually enjoyed before -- by the second day. Genji was pretty sure most of them were actually _trying_ to hurt him, the renewed vigor in their thrusts always occurring after a particularly pained noise escaped him or when he was unable to hide the pain from his facial expressions.

Genji hadn't been sure how many to expect in one day. And usually it just depended on the day. Either way, no matter how many might come into his room in a day, Genji struggled to escape the welling panic with each encounter. The knowledge that he had to see it through, regardless of who walked through the door. When it was just a simple fuck, nothing special, he could manage to mostly zone out without risking performance. He still felt disgusting afterwards, no matter where he went in his mind. There were periods between customers where Genji would be able to attempt to stop shaking and choke down some alcohol while he tried desperately to focus on the fuzzy TV screen. The old American television shows always had wholesome themes about family, making Genji suddenly uncomfortable when problems were resolved with hugs and sentiments. It was a distraction but a wholly unwelcome one.

Genji would take another swig from the vodka bottle, gagging lightly at the aftertaste of what was supposed to be peach flavored booze. He could not remember ever really hugging his family past being a small child and before his father died (and of course that last embrace replayed in his head like an omen). He wasn't sure crowding his brother's space while drunk in his bed counted for any true affection. Hanzo had bared Genji’s insistence for proximity with rolling eyes and growled words, never one for expressing affection physically like his little brother did. Hanzo barely even ever expressed affection at all. Grabbing his hand at their parents’ small altar had been so out of character, the only indicator that the young heir had been struggling with his father's death. The only way Genji could get that coveted petting of his hair was to get pitied; and even then it was reluctant and perhaps even forced.

The time after a shift was truly enjoyable. He enjoyed the company of the others, and their upbeat spirits helped him overcome his melancholy, if just a bit. Some of the girls were nicer than others; a few clearly turned their nose up at his presence, whether for his gender or for being the newbie he wasn’t sure. A few of them he would almost consider friends, if it didn’t feel forced due to circumstance. Regardless of group drama (which he had experienced a lot of in Hanamura; another attribute of this group that soothed him, oddly), most of them would end up crowding someone’s room to wind down before sleeping. Or whatever it is that they did. Genji wasn’t sure if a particular few of them actually slept.

One night, veering from tipsy and heading towards drunk, Genji used one girl’s bathroom during one of these group gatherings. A shiny glint on the edge of her bathtub caught his eye, making him stare for a good long while even after he had finished pissing. A razor blade with stray specks of old blood turned brown beneath it on the tub’s surface.

 _Cut herself shaving_ , the reasonable part of Genji’s mind supplied, _Her razor is on the other end of the tub_. But that razor didn’t have interchangeable blades. Just 3 small blades built in, a disposable thing. Genji cocked his head and finally tucked himself back in his shorts. In the back of his mind, where it hadn’t quite gotten so hazy yet, he knew what this was. But he was struggling to put two and two together at the moment. The sugary banana rum he had gotten one of the girls to buy for him (with his hard earned money, of course) was making his head swirl.

He flushed the toilet and rejoined the group.

 

 

 

  
“Getting scraggly,” Macy comments, reaching over to tug on the thin, soft hairs that have appeared along Genji’s jaw. Shimada men growing a beard have always been a sight. Patchy, thin growth, soft hair instead of rough stubble. But the final product always was worth it; it made Sojiro look threatening and Hanzo looked older and his features sharper with what little he had been able to grow. Genji wondered what it would look like now if he were still around.

It had been maybe 2 months since he had left home? He wasn’t sure. Everything was a blur now. Though it might be due to the alcohol he nursed constantly. His money went to the hands of the girls as they entered the liquor store for him every week almost as soon as he earned it. Any remaining money was given to the pool to get them food and supplies.

“Mm,” Genji grunted noncommittally, a hint of a smile on his lips by reflex. He had been staring at ibuprofen blankly at the little corner pharmacy the girls had invaded for their supply run. He supposed maybe he had been thinking about his aching muscles and the pains… elsewhere. But he had completely forgotten about that, his mind fogged again. Luckily he wasn’t supposed to be getting anything on their group list. He was only there to help carry the heavier stuff back.

“You should shave. Keep that baby face of yours.” Genji laughed at that, rubbing a hand against his chin. No sharp stubble. Just soft wisps of hair. “Come on,” Macy said, tugging on his hand, “let’s get you some shaving stuff.”

Genji let himself get pulled to the next aisle over, staring now at shaving cream and razors with Macy while she babbled on about price and the need to avoid cutting himself shaving because customers might notice. Genji turned his head slightly when Jolene announced they were checking out now, so everyone needed to hurry up. He was about to just reach out and grab some disposable crap at random when he saw something that made his pulse race: a full shaving kit, with actual razor blades.

“You don’t need that for those little hairs you’ve got going on,” Macy protested once it was in his hands, “and it’s more expensive.”

“An investment, then,” he argued back, walking away towards the checkout. “It is more expensive to buy throwaway things in the long run. Plus, I want to shave things other than my face…”

If his odd, swaying swagger was noticed, Macy didn’t voice it as she caught up to him. She was probably used to seeing him like this, anyway. He counted his money as they stepped in line. He would have just enough left to get a few bottles of something at the liquor store. It was too bad it was their last stop. He was losing his buzz and even with his lack of sleep exhausting his mind, some hard to swallow emotions were buzzing under his skin. His fingers twitched when put the kit on the counter to get checked out, not wanting to let it go. Something in his mind told him he needed it. Needed to cut out these bad feelings.

 

\---

 

A sigh echoed in the tiny tile bathroom, waking Genji from an unintended doze. “Oh, little sparrow,” a voice admonished, “what have you done to yourself?”

His father's voice. As soft as the petals on his long dead mother’s favorite sakura tree. Tinged with a familiar note of disappointment that Genji recognized easily.

“My hand slipped,” he told the ghost, eyes remaining shut. His head tilted to the side, seeking the chill of the tile wall against his feverish head. He could almost pretend he was a small child again, rasping out sickly little breaths as he was swaddled in the heavy comfort of his parents’ bedsheets, his mother's constantly cold hands pressed against his forehead.

“A ninja does not slip,” Hanzo snorted. He sounded so close, like he could be sitting on the edge of the tub. “You would not ‘slip’ multiple times on one patch of skin.”

Genji grunted in annoyance and smacked his palm against the pink-tinged bathwater, sending a splash of it in his brother's direction. _Of course_ , he thought as he heard the water hit the wall, _Can't splash a ghost_.

“You caught me,” Genji sang out, an unintentional laugh following. He turned his head again, too fast this time. The world spun behind the darkness of his eyelids and he groaned against the sudden vertigo.

Sojiro _tsk_ ed at the two. Genji could almost see him shaking his head, a private smile barely there on his lips. He couldn't open his eyes to see it, though. Nausea was beginning to make itself known when the dizziness wouldn't stop.

“Don't start a fight, Hanzo. A good oyabun remains level-headed.” A vision flashed through Genji’s mind that he had seen possibly a thousand times: Hanzo straightening his already impeccable posture, eyes forward with focused obedience. A good oyabun-in-training. The only thing Hanzo knew how to be. In recent years, as the brothers drifted apart, Genji would hiss in his brother's ear that he didn't need to worry about sitting so ramrod straight because the stick up his ass worked well enough.

“No need to fret anymore about appearances or behavior, anija. Can't be oyabun if you're dead.” Genji finally opened his eyes to hear his brother's retort, but the ghosts were gone and the bathroom was silent, save for the steady drip of the tub faucet.

Genji supposed he should feel sad. Upset. Mournful for his brother's wasted life. Instead he felt nothing. Not even pain when he finally stood from the water and the neat new slices inside his thighs dripped fresh blood.

A mercifully dreamless sleep met him that night.

 

\---

 

Genji was mostly night shifts by his third month. He had a few regulars and his schedule was mostly dictated by when they would like him to be available. Jolene kept him straight on when he was working next. His days were spent either waiting in his room or waiting with Macy to go back to his room. It was dull but alcohol and weed (and a few times, coke) helped distract him from that. His wallet didn’t like it, but he didn’t see a reason to save money anyway. What was even out there for him? Turns out, if you didn’t have a family purse to put your hand in, life was difficult without constant cash flow. He couldn’t travel and see the sights, he had no friends to visit. America was not the exciting land of opportunity he had daydreamed it was. It was just lonely.

It would soon get lonelier.

“Don’t forget it’s your turn to pay for food later. And you have to eat something. Don’t think I didn’t notice you give Nadine your food last night after like, two bites,” Macy was scolding him as they stood from the chairs in the courtyard, about to part ways to their rooms. Genji was used to her nagging, though it was strange. He saw twice as much coke go up her nose than he ever indulged in, and yet she was always the one with the more level head.

“Yes Mother,” Genji snorted, though he had tuned her out after the first sentence. Well it wasn’t necessarily that he had tuned her out, more that he just…couldn’t focus very well lately. Or maybe it had been like this for a while? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t very sure about many things anymore.

A quick, sharp whistle caught everyone’s attention, making heads turn towards the courtyard entrance. Eddy stood there, Sergio dutifully by his side with hands clasped behind him. He scanned those standing in the courtyard, eyes finally landing on Macy. “You. Doll up, put on something nice. You’ve got 10 minutes to get back here.”

The girls around them all dispersed, leaving Macy and Genji to stand there, blinking at one another. “Me?” Macy finally said, voice sounding small.

“Well I sure ain’t talking to the fruit. Ten. Minutes.” Eddy turned on his heel and stepped back inside the lobby. Genji scoffed, ignoring Macy’s distressed confusion.

“A carrot is not a fruit,” he muttered, looking down at his orange tank top. Nadine had freshly bleached and re-dyed his hair green after a much needed cut this morning and had not hesitated to laugh once she was finished. Genji had found the comparison ridiculous, but she was the only one who knew how to do hair and also she had been pretty high. Better to roll his eyes and let it slide.

“I don’t think he meant your hair, Genj,” Macy muttered, nervously looking towards her room. “I’m supposed to be on shift tonight. What’s his deal?”

“Just change. Wear that dress you splurged on last week. Remember you were upset you wouldn’t really ever get to wear it? Here is your chance,” Genji answered easily, a cigarette making its way out of his pack and into his mouth without him paying any attention. The motion was so practiced he barely noticed it anymore. The second he was standing around too long, his body itched for activity. Macy made a frustrated noise and swiped it out of his mouth, shoving it at his chest.

“You have to be in your room in like 5 minutes! Go upstairs and prep!” she scolded, turning away to go to her own room. Genji put the cigarette away, muttering an ‘oh yeah’ to himself. He was supposed to be working soon. He forgot. Again. He trekked up the stairs to the second floor walkway, trying not to let his mind wander again. He needed to prep himself and change clothes… well, wait, was there time do to a line? Maybe get a few mouthfuls of the rum stashed in the nightstand?

He was in his room somehow… when did he get in here? Okay, prep, line, rum… wait, he was out of coke. He did the last of it when he woke up. Shit. Genji blinked at the clock on his nightstand. No time to get more, there was no time for anything. He had been standing there in his own head. Not unusual, but not ideal right now. He wouldn’t be ready if the phone rang right now—

The phone was ringing.

Shit.

 

 

 

“Where’s Macy?” Genji had called out to the group, following closely behind. He thought she would be with them for their end-of-shift ritual. Apparently not. He was already pretty buzzed, having hit the bottle any chance he got between customers tonight, and Macy usually helped him when he got out of his head too much.

“She had that thing with Eddy. She might still be out or maybe even in her room or something. I don’t know. Don’t look so heartbroken,” one of the more soft-spoken girls said to him, smiling just a bit without any true emotion behind it. Genji scowled in response, throwing up the hood on his jacket and pretending not to hear them snicker at his concern. He probably didn’t need the ratty old jacket they had found at a thrift store during one of their supply runs, but he couldn’t really remember throwing it on and Macy wasn’t there to tell him it was too warm a night for it.

Something didn’t feel right. But maybe that was just the alcohol settling wrong.

They ate. They bitched. They walked back in better moods. Except Genji, who moodily stared at the chipped fast food table the entire time. Even being the one paying for the night, he ordered nothing for himself. He went to Macy’s door as soon as they got back, opening it without giving a warning. He felt his stomach drop, seeing the room dark, empty, and quiet. No Macy in the bed, sleeping soundly. Where was she?

Genji closed the door behind him, enveloping himself in darkness as he sat on her bed. She would be back. If the girls weren’t worried, he wouldn’t worry either. Right?

Right…

 

 

 

“Oh, um… awkward! Were you two actually dating or something? I thought it was just a joke.”

Genji jerked awake to the annoying voice at the door, groaning as the sunlight nearly blinded his oversensitive eyes. A light hangover. A miracle in itself. Genji usually stayed too fucked up to experience one too badly.

There were two girls standing in the doorway, empty boxes in hand. Genji peered around the room; still no Macy. “What’s going on?” he asked slowly, eyeing the boxes.

The girls exchanged a look Genji couldn’t quite read. “Um… We were just told to clear out the room. Get it vacated and ready for the next one. He didn’t say—“

“Who?” Genji was on his feet now, crowding the girls’ space.

“E-Eddy!” the other girl yelped in surprise, backing out of the room. “That’s all he told us, I swear!

“Genji, don’t. Genji!” the first one yelled after him as he stormed out. His head was pounding and he felt nauseous, but he didn’t care. He had to know where his friend was. She was the only one making sure he was taken care of. Genji couldn’t lose someone like that again. He couldn’t—

“Where is she?” Genji nearly barked once he reached the lobby, eyes locked on Jolene sitting at the desk. “Where!?”

“Calm down,” she muttered, her gaze nervously flitting to a door behind her. “Who? What are you talking about?”

“Macy!” The single word felt punched out of his chest. He was starting to panic. “Tell me, Jolene!”

“What is wrong with you? Calm down!” Jolene hissed, standing now. “She doesn’t work here anymore. She’s gone. Moved on.”

Genji stared at her in disbelief. What, just like that? She hadn’t even gotten her things. She hadn’t even said goodbye! Genji had just dismissed her last night. Ignored her nervousness. What had happened with Eddy last night?

Speak of the devil; the door behind the desk opened and Eddy appeared, looking like he had gotten plenty of sleep. Genji narrowed his eyes and felt his mouth open, but Jolene spoke before he could.

“Kid wants to know where his friend went. Would you care to inform him?” Jolene said, sounding irritated to even be asking. Though it was probably better than Genji asking. His high emotions would not go well with Eddy.

Eddy smirked—not comforting—and sized Genji up, taking in the mussed makeup he had forgotten to remove, the teary eyes, the panicked expression. “Macy. Yeah. She was invited to meet a… friend with me for dinner last night. I, uh, left her in his care. And she ain’t coming back. She’s resigned. Tough, kid. Sometimes people go. Don’t cry about it.”

And he breezed past them out the side door to the outside, whistling a tune. Genji stared after him in disbelief. That didn’t answer anything. If anything, now he had MORE questions.

“Let it go. Believe me, people come and go without explanation all the time. Just let it go.” Jolene was looking at him intensely, hands on his shoulders to force him to look at her. “Don’t torture yourself wondering.”

“But…” Genji’s mouth felt dry. He couldn’t explain. His mother, his father, Hanzo, now Macy… no one who took care of him stayed very long. And he could only imagine her sharing their fate.

He couldn’t be trusted to take care of himself. He couldn’t do this without her. He—

“Hey,” Jolene snapped, shaking him lightly, “Cut it out. You’re on shift at noon. I know she was your friend but that’s why the girls here don’t get too attached to anyone.”

He was getting pushed towards the courtyard door now. “Do yourself a favor,” she was saying, “Don’t make any more friends.”

The two girls with the boxes passed by him as he was guided out, their boxes full of her things. They only spared him an apologetic look in their glance. Genji managed to make it into his room before sitting down hard on the floor.

He was alone.

Again.

 

\---

 

Genji throws himself into work. He works both shifts most days. Sleep is avoided, because there are only nightmares for him there behind his eyelids.

Quite frankly, he’s drinking (and snorting) a lot more these days—he needs the work. He needs the money. His wallet thins so quickly now. Eddy withholds part of his money from him, claiming his trial is up and it’s time to contribute to the living expenses. Genji doesn’t know what he’s talking about but he’s dismissed out of the meager office quickly and the next girl in line waiting for her money takes his place.

He stares at the money in his hands.

He stares at the blood on his thigh.

He stares at the phone when it rings yet again.

Events don’t connect anymore.

Nothing is helping anymore.

There’s a knock on his door.

 

\---

 

He was okay. He was okay. He wasn’t going to throw up. He could handle this.

His shaky breathing gave way to choked hiccups, and the hot rush of his stomach contents found their way into the toilet. Genji’s clammy fingers scrambled for purchase, uncaring for the cleanliness (or lack thereof) of the porcelain before him as he retched. The mistake was made of looking in the bowl, causing him to dry heave in disgust before he found the plunger to flush it away. His feet kicked out from under him, pushing his body the short distance away from the toilet until his back hit the bathroom wall. Sobs wracked Genji’s shaking frame as he gave up the fight of a cool, calm demeanor.

It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours that passed with Genji curled up against the wall. At some point the steady stream of tears finally stopped, leaving him with a reddened, ruddy face itchy from tear tracks. The shaking had subsided to a minimum. He should have been apathetic, like how he felt after all the others lately, but he could only _feel_. Disgust, horror, shame.

With steadily shaking arms and a bit of difficulty, Genji pushed himself up from the floor. He ignored the pretty boy with the red eyes and the stained shirt in the mirror as he slid past it, remembering the nasally voice of the pimp. _You need help and it ain’t about a John, tell Jolene, not me. Room 211_.

Genji went three doors down the walkway, knocking with an unsteady hand. There was a pause before “closed for business” was gruffly called towards the door from within.

“It’s Genji,” he managed to rasp out past his burning throat. He waited for what felt like a lifetime in the darkness outside before the sounds of the chain unhooking and the lock tumbling open came. If Genji hadn’t been so distraught, he might have felt annoyance that she had access to a lock _and_ a security chain for her door.

The woman with straw-colored hair with the texture to match answered the door. “You sound like hell, kid,” her smoker’s voice greeted him, “look like it too. Get in here.” Genji shuffled in past her pathetically, his arms wrapped around himself doing nothing to alleviate his shivering.

“I n-n-need something. Anything. Need to fuh-feel—no, I need to s-stop feeling anything. P-Please…” Genji attempted to clench his jaw to make the shaking stop spreading to his speech, but his teeth only chattered against each other. He was made to sit on the messy bed in the room, watching the woman rummage through the nightstand.

“Kid, I got stuff that can make you feel good—coke, booze, whatever—but if you wanna feel numb I got painkillers. Codeine. You want that?” Genji nodded more violently than he intended. He ignored her motherly tutting and cooing while she shook out the pills and got him a glass of water from the bathroom sink. “Take these and you’ll stop all that shaking and carrying on. I know what it’s like to be a newbie at this. We all started somewhere. And we all cracked eventually.”

Genji nodded again, more absently this time, before tossing back the pills. He gulped down the water, blessed relief for his stomach acid coated throat.

“I’m gonna tell you what I’ve had to tell all of ‘em: It never gets better. It just gets easier. And we all need a little something to keep going. There’s no shame in that.” Genji clutched at his own elbows again, glancing at the dirty hand mirror sitting on the nightstand. He knew by now the dusty effect wasn’t dust. “If you need something from me again later, I’m gonna need some cash next time. Vices are expensive and I can’t take care of mine and yours without losing what little profit I’m making entirely. But I’ll get you what you need if you just ask.”

Genji closed his eyes, letting his head drop towards his chest. This isn’t where he thought he’d be at this point in his life. True, he hadn’t ever planned past partying and fucking, but he had never had to worry about anything more than what he would wear to a party or how to best woo a girl into bed. Now he was worried about the pain of a too-rough fuck still lingering and how to stop being disgusted with himself.

Snapping fingers and a soft pat to his cheeks startled him back to reality. Her fingers were ice cold. “Hey kid, you still with me? Let’s get you back to your room.” Genji stood, accepting her half-embrace as she helped him shuffle back to his door.

“Lay down and let it kick in. It’ll be okay. It gets easier.” Jolene watched him open the door, disappearing back into her room the moment he managed to close it behind himself. Genji collapsed onto the bed, immediately regretting it when he felt the sheets still wet, and now cold, from sweat and… maybe something else. He half-assed making the bed, moving the comforter over the messy sheets and crawling onto it before collapsing completely. The comforter was rough and thin, but it was dry. Genji had never appreciated such small details in his life until now.

 

 

 

The painkillers were better than his drinking/coke combos. He could drown out all the thoughts in his head with one pill…okay, maybe two sometimes. Okay, most times. It became his cure-all when things got too heavy. And quite frankly, they were _always_ too heavy. Agree to a customer’s extra request when you’re high on coke and regret it once you’re left still reeking of his piss? Take a pill! Your exotic-loving regular fucks your face so hard you cry and he comments on how gorgeous you look with your makeup getting ruined? Take a pill! Remember your dead father and wonder what he’d have to say to the sight of you riding the meanest customer you’ve ever had so far? Take 2 pills and wash it all down with vodka!

The best part: he rarely dreamed anymore. The faces of all he once depended on stopped appearing. Everything was just black when he passed out.

The days just ran together now. Sometimes he’d leave his room, when his hunger finally won and convinced him to join the food run. But most times he just laid there, enjoying the feeling of feeling nothing at all, ignoring his muscle deteriorating and his ribs showing more as time went on.

It would be 4 more months in this hellhole before the event that finally woke him up.

 

\---

 

Maybe if he hadn’t gotten hooked to the feeling the pills gave him. Maybe if he had a better pimp. Maybe if he had never accepted his help in the first place. Maybe if Hanzo had sent him somewhere else. Maybe if the elders hadn’t marked him. Maybe if he hadn’t fucked that Fujiwara son.

Maybe.

Maybe it would have never happened.

There were rules in place. Wear a condom, don’t leave marks, pay up front, don’t try to get more than you paid for, and no choking the whores. That last one got tested a lot. Customers would rest their hands on shoulders, snake them a little closer to the base of their rented fucktoy’s neck, apply just enough pressure to hear a soft rasp. The limits were tested so often that as long as Genji could still breath, he didn’t mind it. The customers never truly choked, just… rested themselves in ways that might suggest it as they pounded into him unforgivingly.

So when it was really happening, it was almost too late before he realized the danger he was in.

There hadn’t been anything exceptional about this one. Thin greasy hair that could use a cut, clothes that looked like they had been reworn many times since their last washing, jean jacket he insisted on keeping on, dirty fingernails and definitely not one for foreplay. Not an unusual John. Genji had lounged easily on the bed with his legs spread invitingly as the guy slipped on a condom, only bothering to pull himself through the fly of his jeans. A true quick fuck seemed to be what he was looking for, and Genji could provide that. He was even still loose enough from his last client, who had been a nice change in pace. Wanted to do it doggy style, even touched Genji all the way through. While he hadn’t come, simply forcing the unsatisfying orgasm once the guy left, Genji had enjoyed the change in pace and position.

The pretty boy simply had to spread some lube around and he was ready for this one. He was starting to come down from his latest high; he’d probably get something else in his system once this guy was done. That’s what life was these days. Get high or doped or drunk and stay that way. He wasn’t saving up any money this way but fuck it. It was a carefree life most of the time, even with the exploratory scrapes and cuts in his skin getting deeper and taking longer to heal as time went on.

Time skipped a bit, not unusual for Genji’s mind these days, and the guy was inside him, breathing starting to labor as his speed picked up. Genji could faintly feel the press of the metal zipper against him every so often, but it was only mildly discomforting. The mattress dipped on either side of his head as the guy settled on all fours over him, his hands framing Genji’s neck a bit closely. His mind wandered as the job went on, his attention obviously unneeded for this one. Did he have any more vodka? Could one of the girls go with him and get him into a club tonight? There was one that was willing to look the other way if he paid the bouncer enough. How much was in his stash? He hadn’t spent it on a restock of pills yet.

The mundane thoughts continued to drift around in his head. Through the breaking fog of him coming down from his latest high, he realized he could feel this more than he would have liked. It wasn’t that he didn’t like sex anymore, but when it was a job, what was the point of trying to enjoy it? It wasn’t about him anyway. His orgasm wasn’t how he got paid. His throat felt tight, he realized in the back of his mind. He attempted to clear it, only to feel it get tighter, tighter… Genji’s eyes opened, realizing he had closed them at some point during his pointless thinking, to reveal the sight of the client above him with his hands wrapping tighter around his neck, a crazed look in his eye.

A thin, reedy gasp was all Genji could manage in before the pressure was too much, too tight, and alarms were finally ringing in his head to cut through the last of his codeine-fueled haze. Genji’s open-mouthed horror only made the first smile he had seen from this stranger spread on his face, and the pace became brutal. Genji had almost forgotten they were fucking until the metal zipper was finally scratching and biting into the sensitive skin between his cheeks. He finally had enough sense to fight, hands flying up to grab and scratch at the offending hands and wrists. His legs flailed uselessly on either side of the guy, too panicked to defend himself any better.

The edges of his vision started to fade, to blacken, and his lungs were burning hot and desperate in his chest. This was it. This was how Shimada Genji, second born son of the mighty Shimada clan, died. Choked to death by some creep while said creep was balls deep inside of him. Tears run hot and unexpected down the sides of his face. His body would be dumped in some back alley dumpster, never to be discovered or identified. Genji shut his eyes tight, pulling in one leg close to his body and connecting his foot hard to the body over him. The other leg followed suit, and soon his solid kicks discouraged the man enough to have his throat freed.

Genji was not going to die like this.

A wave of dizziness crashed into Genji’s brain as he gasped in a burning lungful of oxygen, bringing his vision back from the blackness that had threatened him. Later on, when he had a clearer mind, he would realize the guy hadn’t bothered to remove any clothing so he could leave as quickly as possible after getting off on choking the life out of a whore. He was out the door before Genji could come back to himself, but he wasn’t going to let the guy get away with this. Stumbling on uncertain legs, he rushed out the open door, slamming into the railing of the upper floor’s breezeway and shouting for someone to stop the man trying to slink away unseen down the iron staircase to the bare concrete courtyard below.

Some of the women opened their doors, some merely opened their blinds to peek out, but none batted an eyelash at Genji’s nakedness as he yelled, hoarse and strained against the damage his throat had sustained. Luckily, Eddy’s large bald guard dog of a man was on duty, sitting in a metal folding chair by the only way in or out of this area.

Genji was being pulled away from the railing, back into his room, before he could see the guy get grabbed by Sergio. Genji didn’t fight, letting himself get guided into the small worn armchair in the corner of his room. Jolene was forcing a glass of tap water into his hand, asking him what happened. Genji regarded the glass with disinterest. Swallowing felt impossible right now. Two other girls that Genji was closer to had rushed in as well, covering him with a blanket and rubbing his back. He didn’t realize he was shaking so hard until one had to take the water from his hand.

“The fucker tried to kill me,” Genji finally rasped out, feeling fresh tears sting his eyes, “He chuh- _choked_ me.” Jolene gave a curt nod before suddenly straightening up and filing out of the room.

“Sergio got him, don’t worry, Genji. Eddy will take care of it,” one of the soft spoken girls said, still trying to soothe his quaking form. The other girl nodded in agreement.

“Eddy is supposed to protect us from these things in the first place,” Genji managed to growl out before he had to cough, only making the burning hurt of his throat worse. The girls didn’t have anything to say to that.

 

 

 

Genji was summoned to the front desk, as it was called, nearly an hour later. His throat was too sore to swallow any pills or alcohol, so he was more sober than he had been in a while. The girls had done their best to comfort him but he was still shaking just slightly by the time he made his way. The air in the courtyard was stagnant and hot, making even his simple attire of a tank top and shorts feel unpleasant and cumbersome. The colors of the sky above ranged from a faded bright blue to a muted orange to a pastel pink. He was sure if the windows facing out of the dingy old hotel weren’t all boarded up and the sun bleached walls not so high, he could see one hell of a California sunset right now. Like the ones he used to dream about.

Eddy turned to face him once Genji stepped inside the tiny lobby area that divided their world and the rest, and greeted those who came to escape to their world for a moment or so. He thrust a fifty dollar bill into Genji’s direction unceremoniously. “Jolene said he broke the choking rule. He paid the fee. Here’s your cut for your trouble.” Jolene and Sergio were also in the room, arms crossed as they watched the exchange.

Genji’s eyebrows raised, lips curling back into a sneer. “For my trouble? He almost killed me! If I hadn’t been able to kick him off, I would be dead! He didn’t just break a rule, he attempted murder!” If Genji’s throat hadn’t still burned, the rasping anger bursting forth might have been louder. For now, he could barely raise his volume enough to convey his unhappiness.

Jolene shook her head, suddenly looking worried at the outburst. “Genji…” she started softly, eyes flickering between him and Eddy. “Calm down, now. It’s been taken care of.” Genji’s eyes widen at her lack of support. It feels like betrayal, even knowing she was loyal to Eddy in the first place.

“Bullshit! The guy pays you and gets away with this? He deserves worse! My life is not worth only fifty—“ The sudden hand around his still tender neck makes his mind fly into a frenzy of fear all over again. The defensive maneuver his body automatically tries to engage is halted by the knife in his face, daring him to try it. His hands that had been halfway up to knock the hands off his neck lower slowly. The flat side of the blade presses against his cheek. It’s too gentle to cut him at this angle, but it would only take a minute turn of the blade for the steel to bite into his flesh.

“Listen whore. You’re my property. If someone damages my property, I’ll take care of it as I see fit and you’ll fucking thank me for it. Take the money and shut your mouth or I’ll make you wish he had finished you off.” Genji doesn’t have anything to say to that, still in wide-eyed terror at the hand on his throat. It isn’t squeezing but it’s authoritative, threatening.

The hand and the blade are removed once Eddy’s satisfied with the lack of a fight. A smile Genji doesn’t like spreads on his pimp’s face. “Y’know what, boy? You can show me how thankful you are. And by the end maybe you’ll actually feel like it was all worth it, too.” He barks out a laugh and Genji shudders, stepping back a half-step. He bumps into Sergio, who places a hand on his shoulder. “Or you’ll wish you had just taken the fucking money without whining at me.”

Jolene protests (“Eddy, don’t…”) but it falls on deaf ears. “Take him to my room. Strip him down. Jo, you’re managing the front tonight.” Eddy barks out orders, an excited glint in his eye. “And obviously, this one won’t be for rent tonight.”

 

 

 

“I can undress myself,” Genji hisses out at Sergio when he makes a grab for the bottom lining of his shirt, pushing his hands away. Sergio had never given him a reason to fear him, he was supposed to symbolize their protection after all, but he was intimidating all the same. Sergio’s tired eyes scan his own, and the steel bar through his eyebrow jerks as his expression changes to one of determination.

“Boss told me to do it,” he insists. Genji frowns, stepping back further into the large room. It was a shitty hotel’s version of a suite, but it was still the biggest room, reserved for Eddy himself. Letting someone else undress him would make him feel powerless. And he wasn’t ready to accept that, the idea that he had zero control over his life now. But that didn’t seem to matter. Sergio was as bullheaded as the young Shimada son was.

So Genji let him. His body went from rigid to loose, moving as Sergio needed to strip his meager outfit. The tall man stepped back and observed Genji’s revealed body when he was done, letting out a soft huff of air in thought. Genji wasn’t sure if it was an appreciative sound or one of judgement, but he curled in on himself either way, wanting to hide from those eyes boring into him.

Sergio noticed this. “Hey, don’t be like that. You’ll make it harder on yourself. Boss don’t like it when they fight. Be a good boy an’ he’ll give you mercy.” Genji cringed at that. Mercy? Would he need it? An involuntary flinch occurred as Sergio pat his head like some sort of scared animal.

“Kneel by the bed ‘til boss gets here. Should be in soon.” Sergio turns to leave and Genji can’t help the scared whine that escapes him, grabbing Sergio’s calloused hand like a frightened child.

“What’s going to happen?” Genji begs to know, hating how his voice cracks under the strain his throat still feels.

Sergio turns just enough to look at him over his shoulder. He’s silent for a moment, looking like he wants to say something but can’t. He finally shrugs and pulls his hand free.

“Whatever he wants to happen.”

Genji ends up kneeling on the short, old carpeting for what feels like forever, but is probably for near 20 minutes, when Eddy finally unlocks the door and steps inside, locking the door again behind him. Genji feels a twinge of irritation at that alone. The doors for the workers’ rooms don’t lock. They don’t get that luxury. Mere privacy is a fucking luxury here. Genji shifts as little as he can on his knees, trying not to look like he’s squirming. The carpet is digging unforgivingly into his knees. He’s sure there will be ugly red dots all over his knees when he stands.

“Well now,” Eddy begins, his lips curling into a smirk Genji can only describe as sickening, “I’ve never given a fella the luxury of getting some intimate time with me. Not even Richard, and I’ve heard he can do some pretty damn good work with that mouth of his.” Genji tries his best not to make a face at that, schooling his face into the neutral Shimada stare his family is known for maintaining in business meetings.

“Think I’ll test yours out instead. Don’t you feel lucky?” Genji is almost horrified when he realizes the pimp actually wants an answer to that. A hand is in his hair, yanking his head up to look at Eddy, who’s standing right by his kneeling form now, a boot nudged between his sore knees. “Don’t you, slut?” Genji wants to snarl, to bite, to spit. But he remembers Sergio’s advice, and his fear returns.

Eddy doesn’t like it when they fight. If this is how he’s treating someone he expects to be obedient, Genji can’t imagine what he’s like when they fight.

Despite the hand in his hair, still firm in its grip of his hair, Genji manages to nod, staring Eddy right in his bright eyes. A grin spreads on the man’s face, and his other hand goes to undo the fly and zipper to his pants. “Better show some enthusiasm then, boy.”

The rapid bobbing of Genji’s head, the copious amount of drool, and the way his tongue works over the cock in his mouth were not enthusiasm, but at least that’s what Eddy took it as. Genji had taken it very slowly at first – his throat still fucking _hurt_ —but he figured the sooner he got it over with, the less damage would get added on. The aching pain of it has caused tears to well up and start spilling down Genji’s face. He hates it, hates that this man can see him like this, but the bastard only seems to be enjoying it. A terrible glint and a grin had appeared at the first tear sliding down his cheek.

Genji’s head is yanked back unceremoniously. His ragged gasping for air is embarrassingly loud in the quiet room. A grunt tries to escape his burning throat, but it dies before it can begin. The younger man actually _hopes_ for hot stripes of semen to paint him to signal the end, but Eddy is not done with him yet. The hand in his hair, its grip held so tightly for so long he knows his scalp will be sore, suddenly releases its grip, though in the process it also throws Genji backwards onto his back on the hard floor. The dirty, coarse carpet digs and scrapes into his skin, and Genji feels a surge of fresh fear. Eddy hadn’t been joking; he was going to do more damage than the bastard that choked him did.

An empty bottle is tossed at him, just missing his hip by an inch. It’s a brown beer bottle, its label peeled and missing and the bottom end missing, broken and sharp where it should be. Genji sits up at observes it, confused at the action. What did he expect him to do with this?

Eddy sits on the edge of the bed, crossing his arms. “Well go on. Give me a show, slut. Don’t tell me you need lube, too? Surely you’re still loose after your last lovely client.” Genji’s stomach rolls with disgust. Does he expect him to….? Eddy snorts, seeing Genji’s mixed expressions cross over his face. “Don’t make me spell it out. Fuck yourself with the neck of the bottle.” His eyes narrow a bit, threatening again. “We could always turn it around and make you take it the other way.”

Genji shakes his head at that, eyes widening. He just wants to get the fuck out of here. Out of this room, out of this building, out of this life, out of Sacramento. This city has been nothing but misery since he’s been here. Genji grits his teeth, willing tears not to come, and grabs the bottle. The need for drugs or alcohol has never felt so strong than it has in this moment. He’s shaking. Depravity is so much easier when you don’t have to be aware enough to witness it.

 

 

 

  
The hard glass had no yield to it, no give like flesh did. Genji obeys the demands of _faster_ and _show a little technique_ the best he can, now twisting and thrusting the bottle’s neck into himself like it were nothing more than a dildo. Well, Genji supposed there were glass dildos, but he didn’t think they cut his fingers when his hand slipped to the end, slick with sweat, like this bottle had already.

He hates himself. The whines and groans and the gasp when he cut his hand. The willingness he displayed, spreading his legs wide and up to his chest to give the man a good view, testing out the give of his thoroughly used hole first before requesting just a bit of lube in that weak, gravelly voice. How much the gun flashed at Eddy’s hip had scared him into beginning to comply with his requests.

Eventually he couldn’t keep his head up, his gaze locked onto his pimp like he had been told to do. His head dropped back onto the harsh, biting carpet without comment. Eyes closed against the sight now above him: Eddy barely standing over him, working his dick like he was trying to win a race, eyes downcast to watch the bottle’s neck disappear and reappear for him.

Genji finally stopped when he felt hot semen hit his face, cooling at an uncomfortably rapid rate. The next few stripes his neck, his shoulder, his chest and ribs. Finally ending on his stomach, pooling into his belly button and drenching the fine hairs above his soft cock.

“Look at me,” Came the growl, and Genji could feel the floor reverberate near him with the stomps of Eddy’s boots on either side of his hips now. A glob of semen stuck to his eyelashes on one eye, making it difficult to open his eyes until he swiped it away with the back of his hand. “Toss that bottle away and sit up. Clean me off.”

The idea of lashing his arm out and catching Eddy with the broken portion of the bottle came to mind. But his pants looked too thick to cut with this glass. With a start, Genji realized Eddy was unholstering the gun, watching Genji stare at the bottle’s end for a bit too long. “Toss. It. Away. Sit up. Don’t make me repeat myself again,” Eddy grit out. Genji’s upper body shot up and he half-tossed, half-rolled the bottle away behind him, not caring where it landed. Not wanting to see what would happen if Eddy had to repeat his last order, Genji surged his head forward to lathe his tongue against the length in his face, making the bead of cum still at the tip disappear. He couldn’t help but make a face. Not only was it bitter, it was somehow also acrid. A truly disgusting taste for a disgusting man.

“Thank me and get out.”

“Th-Thank you,” Genji half-whispered, his voice getting hard to summon after so much abuse to his throat. He stood and located his clothes on a table by the wall, but was halted by Eddy’s harsh voice.

“Door’s the other way. Get lost.”

“My clothes—“ Genji rattled out, reaching for them.

“Will be brought to you by Jolene later. You’ve got ten seconds to get out or we’re gonna see if you can show my gun as good a time as you showed that bottle.” Eddy started counting down immediately from ten.

Genji wasn’t sure he had ever moved as fast as he had right then. Clawing at the lock at the door in a near animalistic fear had earned him a torn fingernail and his still bleeding hand only made the small lock slicker. When he finally shot out of the room, slamming the door behind him on the number ‘3’ being drawled out, he’s at the end of a tiny hallway attached to the front desk area. The only other rooms in the hall is a small office and an even smaller room with nothing in it but a drain in the middle of the concrete floor that slopes slightly towards it. Genji isn’t sure what it’s used for and he doesn’t really want to know.

Jolene isn’t there when he finally emerges from the hall, only Sergio, standing guard outside the door he just came out of. Genji feels the bald man’s eyes on him the moment he comes out, and that judgmental huff of air comes forth again. This time it sounds like amusement at his current predicament: bleeding and covered in jizz, naked as the day he was born. Genji scowls, refusing to look at the man and storming away to the courtyard door instead.

The courtyard is lively at night. The girls on duty are hanging out by the railings of the catwalks in the cooled night air, talking in groups amongst themselves while they wait for a chance to make some money. Some are off duty and still hanging around as well, playing music and drinking or whatever other habits they’ve acquired. It’s like a party in purgatory, Genji thinks. Just waiting around for something to happen, making their own fun and knowing they’ll probably never leave this place.

All activity ceases when Genji is noticed traipsing up the concrete stairs on one side. The music still plays on, but the voices stop, then rise back up to a low murmur. Genji ignores them, feeling relief when he can finally make it to his room and slam the door behind him. His knees buckle under him, threatening to have him on the floor right there at the door, but he stumbles forward to the sink outside the tiny bathroom, twisting the knob to start the water flow with a shaky, still bleeding hand.

No one’s come to check on him but he doesn’t care. He finally blinks, realizing he’s stood there with the water running for several minutes. He’d just been standing in front of the mirror, staring at his hollow-eyed reflection. No, no, the sink wouldn’t do. The shower was where he needed to be.

Time skipped. Genji was pretty sure he had managed to get some pills past his swollen, sore throat in that time before near-falling into the bathtub and starting up the shower’s spray, turned as hot as it would go. He sat in the cold wrought iron tub, letting the water clean the drying fluid off of his abused body. The damn pills won’t kick in fast enough. His breathing is getting erratic, reaching for the slightly dulled razor hidden behind his shampoo on the edge of the tub.

He is not some fucktoy for the amusement of abusive men. He _isn’t._

 _No, of course not. You fucked yourself with a broken bottle because you wanted to. Easy slut_.

The sob that manages to escape Genji is choked and sudden, the reverberation of the tiny room causing it to return to his ears at a louder volume and startle him back to himself. There’s fresh blood swirling down the drain. He hisses at the stinging pain on his thighs, despite the numbness finally creeping in. But it’s slow, and it’s almost unsatisfying. It’s lost its power, its potency. Genji is shivering despite the hot water still beating down on him, though it’s starting to cool down.

Eventually the water is cut off and he stands. The numbness took until the water ran ice cold to set in, but it’s finally here, letting him ignore the fresh wounds he can’t blame on someone else. The wound on his hand has long since stopped bleeding, the broken skin white with over-hydration, but the ones on his thigh still dripped occasionally. He found himself on his back, still soaking wet, on the disheveled bed, suddenly incredibly weary. In the back of his mind he knows he needs to dry off and warm up, but a deeper part of him can’t bring himself to care.

When his eyes open again, he’s freezing and several parts of his body are throbbing and sore. The sun is streaming through the thin curtains and despite everything he’s suddenly feeling all at once, there is one thought bubbling atop it all.

 _I need to get out of here_.

 

\---

 

2 weeks later, Elmo and his friends are singing about fuck-knows-what on the outdated dinosaur of a television through tv static. Genji is too high to really notice it, just letting it be background noise while he tries for the sixth time to count his cash. The quiet tends to make him jumpy. Or maybe it’s the weed. Either way, Genji is starting to think he shouldn’t have smoked his whole stash in one sitting.

With a defeated sigh, Genji sets the money aside, deciding to come back to it later. If he remembers. A banging knock makes him jump up from where he sits on the bed, his heart racing at the scare. He’s too high to be able to struggle enough if a customer is trying to sneak into his room again. He had gotten lucky the last time that had happened but…

The door swings open before he can dwell on the possibility any longer, revealing Eddy and a man Genji’s only seen a handful of times in his months there: Richard, the designated party whore. A person wouldn’t know his line of work just by looking at him. He was arguably pretty, with ice blue eyes and a decorative septum piercing, his midnight black hair always pushed back and wet-looking. He’s looking down his nose at Genji, the judgement clear in his eyes.

“No,” he says suddenly, out of the blue, “He’s a fucking mess.”

If he were a bit more on the earth, Genji would have bristled at that. But he couldn’t deny it. Still reeking of sex and sweat from a day’s work, in shorts that used to hug him perfectly but have gotten loose over the months threatening to fall off then and there. It’s coupled with his cheap jacket that’s somehow also gotten a bit big on him, half of it hanging off of his body, only holding on by the fabric hanging onto his forearms. He knows his roots have grown out again; he’s been meaning to ask Nadine for another cut and color but he keeps forgetting to, only remembering when a customer purrs too close in his ear that it looks cute, or that they enjoy how easily pulled the length of his hair has gotten.

“He’s all we got. Clean him up and he looks cuter.” Eddy ignores Richard’s irritated grunt, going the short distance to the television and shutting off Cookie Monster’s invigorating educational message.

“Alright, listen up. I got a good buddy of mine who kindly hires Richard and sometimes some other girls to help him entertain at his parties. He has a very important guest with a special request to have a cutie in his lap and to himself during this next party. Obviously the special request came with a specification… but Richard is my only party guy. I need someone to take his place as a party favor while he ensures the special guest’s happiness and more importantly, his potential future business. And since you’re my only choice: you’re it, kid. I need you fuckin’ coherent for it, though, so try not to OD before tomorrow night, understand?”

Genji nodded slowly, blinking owlishly from where he stood. Richard was tearing through the dresser drawers, not finding much in the way of clothing. Genji rarely bought anything unless Macy had insisted it would be cute on him. His money was better spent on his vices; it wasn’t like his customers cared what he wore anyway. Though he had been brought lingerie sets to model for them a handful of times, that was about the only time Genji cared to look good past some eyeliner and lip gloss and a bit of mousse in his hair when he was feeling particularly pretty. They fucked him into the mattress either way.

“It doesn’t open,” he offered in a soft voice when Richard struggled to open the bottom drawer, the one that had been jammed shut since he had gotten there. Eddy had stepped out just as easily as he had walked in, leaving Richard to unleash his bitchy fury on Genji.

“You’re kidding me. This is all you have? You need to look good if you’re going to fill in for me.” Richard’s nose was crinkled as he assessed Genji with his piercing blues yet again, hands on hips. “Come on. We’ll find something for you in my room.” Richard turned, walked two steps towards the door (his posture stayed sassy, hips swaying with every step), and aborted his exit just as Genji started to finally step forward. “Actually, you’re a fucking mess. Clean yourself up and meet me in the last room downstairs. Take your makeup off too. Atrocious.”

Genji stared after the man as he left with a flourish, slamming the door shut behind him. He wasn’t even sure that really happened… But the fear that had struck his very heart when Eddy had spoken to him told him that this was no hallucination. Rubbing a hand down his face, Genji groaned and staggered to the bathroom, resigned to scrub himself cleaner than he had felt, or really _been_ , in a long while.

When Genji ended up in the spray of the shower, or even for how long, he didn’t know, but at some point he realized he should probably start actually cleaning himself instead of staring into space. Richard is impatient and unforgiving by the time Genji makes it downstairs, knocking on the door at the end of the way downstairs. He’s swept inside, led immediately over to a large closet opened and ready for Richard to start tearing through it, pulling out clothing and tossing it aside.

“I didn’t know there were rooms this big here…” Genji murmurs, looking around them. For what a shitty, old motel this is, the room is impressive in comparison to what Genji’s seen. For starters, it has an actual closet, not just some broken dresser. The slice of the bathroom Genji can see next to them through its cracked door has an actual counter, littered with Richard’s makeup and hair product, with a sink built in and not outside of the actual bathroom itself. The bed is much bigger than Genji’s, is even bigger than Eddy’s, and the sheets and comforter look luxurious in comparison to the scratchy, worn, mass produced versions in the others’ rooms.

“Bring in the cash like I do and you get rewards,” Richard replied with the sound of a mean-spirited smirk in his voice. He shoved a bundle of clothes at Genji before crossing over to the bed, sitting on the edge with his legs crossed. “Go ahead. Try those on. Hurry up, I’ve got a gig tonight and I need to get ready, too.”

Genji stared at the clothes in his hand, then towards the bathroom. From the impatient huff Richard let out, it was obvious he meant _right here_. The broken dragon felt no shame as he stripped himself down to his underwear, a soft, white, lacey little thong. A gift from a customer.

Richard watched with half-interest as Genji changed, his eyes critically lingering in certain places that he would surely comment cruelly on later. He made Genji change into several different things (all black, which seemed to be Richard’s thing), making no comments but huffing out little private little laughs when he got a good look at Genji in anything new.

“You’re really cute. It’s a shame you’re wasting yourself here.”

It took Genji a few moments to realize he was being complimented, eyes finally lifting from their fixation on the carpeting to look up at Richard. The man is staring at him, his mouth twisting to the side in thought before suddenly shrugging and throwing Genji’s original clothing to him. “Get dressed. Come with me. We don’t have time to play with your makeup but I’m sure I can work a miracle before we go tomorrow.”

Either the bitchy attitude was a façade or Genji was actually being insulted and couldn’t tell anymore. He actually kind of liked Richard. The guy had more of a spine than any of his friends ever did in the past. He wasn’t afraid to speak his mind and Genji was attracted to the honesty. Or maybe Genji felt safer when people directed his life for him, like Richard was now, picking out his clothes, insisting on doing his makeup, paying Nadine to get his hair looking right again.

Nadine glanced between the two of them before counting the money in her hand. “What, you wanna keep it green or just cut off what isn’t black?”

Richard considers Genji beside him before surprising him with a hand through his hair, tugging slightly when he went to take it back out. Genji had to bite back an involuntary sound as Richard replied, “Get it green again. It’s cute how it’s the only unique thing about him.”

What a _bitch_.

“Y’all fuckin’?” Nadine asks once Richard has gone to go get ready for his ‘gig’, which is apparently a nice way to say he’s going to get passed around party guests like a bong.

”Not yet,” Genji breathes out, still staring at the door from watching Richard leave.

 

\---

 

The party is… odd. Interesting. Genji can’t figure out what’s attracted people of various ages and statuses to this private party until the ‘special guest’ arrives. Genji is watching one of the hired strippers with a guest who has a possessive hand on his ass when the huge double doors of the parlor open and everyone shouts out a ‘happy birthday!’. Genji can’t help but huff out a laugh. This is exactly the kind of birthday he’d want to have. Pretty whores and strippers for entertainment, people getting loose and stupid from the get-go, music just on the side of too loud, making bodies brush together when they lean in to hear one another.

It’s sinful and debaucherous and it makes Genji ache for his old life—and some alcohol. But he’s been sober since Richard burst into his room at 3 am this morning, demanding Genji come back with him to his room to keep an eye on him until this party. He wasn’t allowed to grab his alcohol, his weed, or his pills. He was on edge all day, hands twitching without a vice in them. His cigarettes had been allowed, but he wanted one in his mouth at every moment. Richard had continuously joked throughout the day until they finally got ready that there was something he _could_ let Genji occupy his mouth with, only to laugh when Genji actually looked hopeful at the proposition. It was cruel, to demand Genji go to sleep that night without his usual aid, to cuddle onto him like a body pillow when Richard himself went to sleep, to change in front of Genji like he wasn’t aware of how attractive he was. Richard was a professional tease, and Genji was getting some firsthand lessons.

It only made Genji actually look forward to this party. Getting his makeup and hair done to match Richard’s own was difficult. He was so close and Genji was so worked up. It was almost a relief when they had arrived, parting ways to make themselves known and available to the guests in the crowded parlor.

Genji had been given a short set of instructions by Richard as Sergio had driven them over. Find any guest not occupied and make himself known, be enthusiastic, be cute, be a real fucking whore. “It’s different than your usual work. People seek _you_ out. This is a level up. You’ve gotta look for opportunity. These people are expecting a free, complimentary orgasm. Sounds unreal but when you’ve got money like these people do, a party isn’t really a party unless there’s whores and drugs. We’re getting paid good money to work, not to stand around. So if someone’s finished with you, move on fast.”

The party atmosphere had been appealing, but this sounded like actual work. Richard described some nights he had worked on their way, about how exhausting it could be at times, especially considering the cheerful enthusiasm that had to be at the forefront at all times. “I dunno if you’ve ever been in a customer service position but it’s pretty much like that, except you get cum in your eye sometimes.”

So far it had just been a lot of flirtatious promises and ass grabs galore, but the night was still young and the guests were still settling in. As soon as the special guest was no longer flooded with people saying hello, the host of the party had Richard and Genji at his side, presenting them like cattle at an auction. "We’ve got some pretty young things working the party, just as requested. Richard here will keep you company for the night…” As though on cue, Richard stepped forward, hips twisting as he smiled wider for the older man in front of them.

To everyone’s surprise, the man shook his head, motioning with his hand as though he were shooing Richard away. “No, no. I want the other one.” Richard managed not to drop his smile _too_ hard as he stepped back, digging his nails into Genji’s exposed lower back before pushing him forward. Genji easily latched onto the offered arm of the man before him, sparing a nervous glance at Richard before they departed to rejoin the rest of the party. Richard could have been a Shimada, the way his eyes nearly glowed with anger. The message was clear: _Don’t fuck this up!_

And Genji did not. His nervous energy dissipated the moment a glass of champagne was pushed into his hand and he was pulled unceremoniously on the man’s lap, as though he were some prized pet cat instead of some hired eye candy for the night. It was so easy, too easy, to laugh at the man’s unfunny jokes with the rest of the group listening to him, to purr and rub his chest idly, to get his ass squeezed and push against the offending hand in false want. Is _this_ what Richard did? What a fucking breeze. Genji felt dizzy with the realization of how broken he had felt until now. He was still just some nameless hired slut, which dampened the optimism he felt, but he could get used to this.

Eventually he followed the older man away from the party, the champagne making him act much more enthusiastic about their ‘quick trip to the bathroom’ than he really felt. He caught eyes with Richard for a quick moment, who was currently pressed against a guest in the corner of the room with a hand down their pants. The anger from before was gone, a flash of something Genji couldn’t name there instead.

Genji would have to guess Richard knew what was in store for him when he ends up on his knees in a bathroom far from the party, mouth open and waiting as the man undoes the button and zipper on his slacks. The look, Genji can now guess, was something of sympathy or pity.

“Don’t spill a drop or you’ll be cleaning it up.”

Genji barely had time to realize what was happening when it hit his tongue.

 

\---

 

“You reek like piss.”

“Imagine that,” Genji snaps back, sucking smoke from his cigarette like it owed him money. He ignores Richard’s laugh.

“Sorry. Guess I’m just relieved you got him, after all. I’m not gonna make as much cash now, but obviously you need it more than me.” Genji manages not to growl as he blows out the smoke in his lungs, nervously looking over his shoulder at the party still going on inside. They had stepped out to take a short break. Genji had been dismissed for it with a harsh slap to his ass that still stung.

“Oh my god. Come on, what do I have to say?” Richard surprises him by shoving his shoulder, sending him stumbling on unsteady feet. Genji grips the railing of the balcony and glares at him. He’s hungry, he’s tipsy, his head hurts as well as his feet in these bullshit sandals, and now he’s getting fucking mad.

“What do you want me to do!?” Genji finally questions, angrily putting out his cigarette and tossing the butt over the edge, “You’ve been pushing my buttons since I fucking met you!”

“Yeah, and you haven’t done shit about it! You’re pathetic!” Richard nearly yells in his face. “You’re such a husk! A shell! Get it together, damn! You act like you’re just waiting for the next person to knock on your door to be death himself!” Genji is taken aback by the observation, but he can’t deny it.

“You don’t know me,” Genji says slowly, but Richard is backing him into a corner of the balcony railing.

“I know that you were all muscle when you came in. I know you’ve been abused like a fucking dog since you got here and you just lay down and take it. I know you have a damn _dragon_ on your back that must have cost more than you’ve ever made in your time here. I don’t know your story, but I know it doesn’t end here. I don’t give a shit what’s happened to you, but it’s fucking infuriating to watch you waste your life,” Richard’s got an arm on either side of him, leaned in so close Genji can feel his breath on his face. “Take. Control.”

A deep breath in, summoning his strength to fight… which he just couldn’t find. Genji shook his head, and the flash of disappointment and near-rage on Richard’s face made him think too much of seeing that same look on so many faces in Shimada Castle during his youth. “Back off,” Genji could barely get out, shoving weakly at the body trapping him there, “I just… I just need another fucking drink.”

Genji is grateful when Richard steps away, backing down with a parting comment of “pathetic”. Nausea that had been churning beneath the surface finally manages to rise -- literally. The host finds him after he’s emptied his stomach while leaning far over the railing, contemplating following it with the rest of himself. “Christ, you’re a mess. No more drinks for you tonight. Come on, he’s asking where you went. Get cleaned up, break’s over.”

Genji, a true professional, is without a trace of incident on himself and sitting pretty in his escortee’s lap in less than ten minutes.

 

\---

 

After that confrontation on the balcony earlier that night, the last place Genji had expected to be was balls deep in Richard. Especially after being spitroasted to exhaustion between the guest of honor and the host himself before they had been picked up to be returned to the hotel. But Richard would not stop with the jabs, both in the ribs and at his worth, and at some point Genji had had enough. Exhaustion and bodily pain be damned – this guy needed to be taught a lesson.

In the end, it was Genji getting the lesson, a bemusing realization once they were both post-coital and laid out on Richard’s ridiculously comfortable bed, a cigarette being passed lazily between them. “Doesn’t it feel nice to take control?” Richard teased, voice rough, a snarky half-grin on his face as he settled in to sleep. Genji took the last drag of the cigarette before snubbing it out in the glass ashtray next to him, rolling his eyes. Richard was fucking annoying, but he had a point. For the first time in a long time, the dragon was sated, given a taste of control when he had shoved Richard onto the bed, had pinned his wrists harshly above his head, had growled lowly that if Richard didn’t find some lube and fast, he was going in without it.

It was almost ridiculous, being curled up to one another and drifting to sleep after the last maybe not even truly 48 hours that Genji had known him for. But it was the most sobriety and control and comfort he had felt in a long time. Richard nudged his knuckles into Genji’s ribs before he could let sleep take him – god damn it was actually starting to hurt from him doing that – and Genji growled in exhausted annoyance in response.

“Hey. Remember this. I want to see you take control more. You don’t have to lay back and take all the shit you get around here.” Richard shifted, wrapping an arm around Genji’s middle. “Besides, you’re fucking hot when you’re in control. You’re a natural. You obviously were like that before you came here.”

Genji stared up at the ceiling. Maybe. He did call the shots, ultimately, in Hanamura. He decided what the group was going to do. Where they were going. He kept out of clan business because he chose for it to be that way. He did whatever he wanted, got whatever he wanted… Yeah, he missed it, truth be told. But it wasn’t like he could do whatever he wanted here. He was at Eddy’s mercy. The one time he objected to how he had been treated, he had gotten punished for it.

A hand pressed to his mouth as he opened it to reply. “Shut up. Sleep.” Richard muttered, removing his hand to snuggle up tighter. Genji huffed out a half-laugh and obliged, slipping into sleep easier than he expected.

 

\---

 

“This is the last time,” he tells her, handing over the sweaty wad of money, “I will not need more after this. I will not get more.” He blinks, silently chastising his lack of confidence. “Do not let me get more.”

Jolene hands over the yellow pill bottle, its contents rattling as Genji hides it away in his back pocket. The label is messily ripped off, like all the others that have passed from her hands to his. She gives him an accusing squinted glare, making his spine shiver as his anxiety spikes. “Aren't thinking of doing stupid now, are we?” she questions slowly, watching his eyes as they look at anything but her.

“Who, me?” It's a phrase he's heard the girls use when trying to be cutesy, denying any very true claims of mischief. Only when Genji uses it, there is a void where the silly attitude should be. Even to Genji’s own ears, he sounds half dead.

“I just need to quit. That's all.” He forces himself to make eye contact. Jolene studies him a while longer before nodding, finally releasing him from her judging gaze.

“Well then,” she starts, tucking the money away in her bra, “I would suggest that if you WERE thinking of trying something stupid, you make sure to do it without anyone seeing. You hearing me?” Genji gives her a look of his own, but returns his face to neutral when he catches on and nods. “But you aren't gonna do anything stupid. In fact, I never asked. We never talked.”

Genji takes the hint and leaves the room.

 

 

 

True to his word, Genji does not resupply after that. It’s not easy, and he merely hits his older habits hard when he craves the numb so bad it _hurts_. Drinking or smoking so much only makes him feel sick, especially after a few hours of getting railed by strangers, so it’s easy to cut down on those habits after a few weeks of sweating out his painkiller cravings. Cutting has lost its appeal without the numbing pills to stop the consistent, throbbing pain he feels just under his sliced skin. But he’s not going to lay down and take it anymore – figuratively, that is – he’s going to get out of this hellhole soon.

His opportunity finally comes in the form of another party. It’s almost a missed opportunity; Genji is suspiciously eager to accept the gig when Eddy approaches him about it, and when Genji shows up to the car with his backpack even Richard is giving him a raised eyebrow.

“It’s just clothes to change into afterwards,” Genji explains nonchalantly, hoping he doesn’t look as nervous as he feels. Eddy is going with them this time, one of the party guests, and is the slowest to accept his excuse. In reality, all of his clothes, his wallet, and his makeup are crammed into the bag, ready to flee with him when the time is right.

All of his money is in there as well, either earned or stolen from wallets when the idiots that fucked him went to piss with their pants still crumpled on the ground. The first time he did it, it had been a split decision born of panic when he realized what little money he really had. The next five or six times it was almost too easy to check their wallet, quick as a viper, and take what wouldn’t be missed. He had even pocketed a nice knife at one point – it was nerve wracking to wait and see if the guy would notice but the thrill of having a weapon in his possession again was almost dizzying.

Everything was set in place. It was time to execute his plan. Whatever that was.

Eddy had been giving him suspicious looks all night. Genji could feel his eyes on him no matter what he was doing. He tried to play it up as he worked, but all the grinding and flirting and discreet dick stroking in the world didn’t seem to deter Eddy’s attention. Genji was finally given a break at some point in the night and he was relieved to finally find that Eddy was missing from his quick scan of the room. No more eyes on him. Time to move.

Silently, on skilled ninja feet, he went down the darkened hallway off the side of the main party room to the room he had been allowed to toss his backpack in. He opened the door just enough to reach in and grab his backpack that he had left sitting right next to it, but he realized too late that 1) his backpack was missing and 2) a hand had wrapped itself around his wrist and was pulling him, making him smash the side of his face against the door as he was yanked into the dark room.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” a voice growled at him, sour breath against his face, and he now realized where Eddy had gone. His grip was tight on his wrist, too tight.

“Taking a break.” Genji finally found his words after a panicked few seconds. “My cigarettes are in my backpack.” The hand on his wrist released him, and his backpack was shoved into his chest. A small lamp on a desk near them was turned on, and the duo were finally illuminated in soft yellow light.

“Go ahead, then. Get them and take your break.” Genji made to put the backpack on and head for the door, but the strap not looped around one arm was grabbed, halting his progress. “I said take your cigarettes, not your backpack.” There was a pause as Genji met Eddy’s glare, and he knew he was caught.

“There’s not just your cigarettes and a change of clothes in there, huh kid? Got what looks to be your worldly possessions in there. Ain’t much but I know a runaway when I see one. Hell, I pick em up off the damn street.” Genji backed away as Eddy sauntered towards him, hands in pockets, a very unamused look on his face. Okay. Time for Plan B, which Genji just made up in this moment.

“I’m just going to grab my cigarettes and step outside,” Genji said slowly, back touching the wall. He opened the backpack just enough to stick a hand inside, keeping eye contact with Eddy all the while. Eddy had halted his slow progress forward, watching him.

“Don’t do anything stupid, kid,” Eddy said softly, reaching for the gun tucked into his waistband. Genji swallowed back the lump of fear in his throat, feeling his breathing turn shaky with adrenaline as he reached past the cigarettes and wrapped his hand around the stolen pocket knife.

“This is the smartest thing I’ve done since I arrived.”

Feeling his reflexes return to him, Genji dropped the backpack and darted past Eddy before he could pull the gun, unfolding the knife and turning to face his assailant. Using the momentum of his turn, the knife flew from his hand, nailing its target dead on. It wasn’t a shuriken, and Genji was out of practice, but his fingers had never forgotten the motions.

Genji could only hear his breath rattle in the air as the gun clattered to the ground, and Eddy soon after it. The shocked expression on his face as blood welled around the blade in his throat would haunt Genji for years. He was still alive, on his knees, clearly struggling to process what had happened; Genji took the opportunity to run past him and out the still open door, grabbing his backpack from the floor as he went.

Killing a man didn’t really faze Genji – he had before, as any Shimada was expected to – but it was still surprisingly difficult to get his breathing down to a normal rate as he slowed to a casual stroll, trying to sneak through the party to the double doors that lead to an immaculate backyard. Someone grabbed his wrist as he passed, and he forced a smile, hoping they didn’t notice him shaking still.

“Hey beautiful, where you going?” the man growled between them, attempting to pull him closer. Genji grit his teeth, forcing his smile wider to hide it.

“Just going for a smoke. I’ll be back for you, handsome,” he purred, slinging the backpack over one shoulder to rest on his back. Thank the dragons, the man released him with a wry grin and he continued on his way. Slipping out the doors as discreetly as possible, he cursed inwardly as he smelled cigarette smoke. Richard was standing on the stonework patio, watching him as though he had been waiting.

“Just gonna bolt without a goodbye? So you DO have balls,” Richard murmured almost too low for Genji to hear. Before Genji could come up with anything to say in response, a yell of surprise rang out from the inside. Genji felt panic jump back into his throat, and he began to run blindly. Either someone had found Eddy or he had managed to get up and stagger into the party.

“Fucking—wait!” Richard grabbed him by the backpack, halting his forward momentum and sending another surge of adrenaline through his veins. “I already checked. The gate by the side of the house is unlocked and open, and there’s plenty of shadow to hide you on your way out.” Genji stared at him, wide eyed and breathing hard. “Just… Goodbye, Genji.”

Richard released him, looking like he had more to say. Genji couldn’t dwell on that now. He was already moving through the shadows through the neighborhood of illustrious houses, quiet as a whisper.

 

\---

 

“Uh, son, you okay?”

Genji whipped around from where he stood at the sink, cold water still dripping from his face. He had burst into the gas station and headed straight for the multi-stall bathroom, trying to calm himself long enough to figure out what to do, where to go. He felt almost ashamed he had been caught off guard by the man who was apparently also in there with him as he splashed water on his face.

“I… yes.” Genji swallowed, still trying to calm his breathing. His chest was still heaving, but he had managed to shut his mouth and keep his breathing through his nose. The man blinked at him before finally moving to the sink beside Genji, washing his hands.

“Alright, then,” he muttered, giving Genji a friendly smile. “You traveling? You look lost. I’m on my way to Las Vegas myself. Driving a truck, you know, that life. Don’t know what freight I’m hauling, all I know is I’ve gotta hit the road here again pretty soon. Do you need help or—“

“Las Vegas?” Genji interrupted, drying his face with a rough brown paper towel as the man dried his hands. "Is that far? Far from here?”

“Ah, I s’pose. Far enough. I’m cutting up through Reno for another load to add on the back of this one, and then heading down, so it’ll be… oh, I’d say 10 or so hours before I got there. Damn near 600 miles away, you know. Is that far enough for you?” The man laughed, but it was cut off as Genji suddenly stepped forward, a desperate look in his eyes.

“Yes,” Genji answered the rhetorical question, suddenly digging through his backpack now, “I will come with you. How much?”

The man startled, looking nervous. “Whoa there, son. I can’t go picking up strangers, there’s regulations I gotta abide by, here.” Genji held up the wad of cash from his wallet, his hand shaking just slightly.

“Five hundred dollars. Please. I need to get out of here.”

The man’s dilemma seemed to disappear once the money was in his own wallet. “Well shee-it. Looks like you’re riding with old Donnie to Las Vegas.”

 

\---

 

There is nothing but mist.

Ah, no. He is walking along a wooden bridge. The wooden bridge across the koi pond in the castle garden, in fact. Genji looks over the edge, and the mist clears enough to reveal the water. His reflection looks back at him. There is soft facial hair on his chin and jaw, neatly trimmed yet somehow only accentuating his wild and handsome looks. His hair is disappointingly black, but sharply styled. He looks somewhat older, but feeling the little hand tugging on his own, he realizes he _is_.

The little being trying to keep him moving along the misty path can’t be older than three, but it is so clearly his own blood that it almost startles him. He sees himself in those little mischievous eyes, cheeks still retaining their baby fat somewhat. But there is something else, _someone_ else, mixed in with those features. He lets himself be led.

Kimiko is waiting for them at the end of the bridge, a smile that wrinkles the little nose on her face. Genji instinctively leans in to kiss her, and then to kiss the top of the head of the baby girl in her mother’s arms. She has Kimiko’s big, round eyes. Genji knows he is more in love with this family he has made every day. It all feels so natural and perfect.

Genji can’t hear her, but he knows Kimiko is shouting after his son. He is running off again, typical, but he clears a path through the misty world and Genji’s father is revealed. A few steps closer, as he observes the man leaning down to pick up his young son, he realizes that it isn’t his father at all. It’s Hanzo.

His beard has grown in, nothing like the wispy thing Genji last remembers on his face. It’s been styled to reflect their father’s taste, not surprising. What does surprise Genji is the sheer amount of gray in Hanzo’s hair; there’s more gray than black at this point. The man is quite clearly stressed, but seems to soften easily when his nephew is happily greeting him in his arms. Genji still can’t hear anyone, but the expressions between them all tell him everything he needs to know: he is happy, and Hanzo appears to be miserable.

The mist clears further, and recognizable members of the clan elders are revealed, looking angrily towards Hanzo. Their oyabun reluctantly sets down his nephew, gives his niece a gentle kiss on her cheek as Kimiko approaches with her, and turns to leave them. Genji can see loneliness in Hanzo’s gaze before his face is turned away, a gaping hole in his heart where love should be.

Genji doesn’t dwell on this for too long, as his son is running off to play yet again, the mist swallowing him whole as it has done with Hanzo and the elders now. Kimiko, though silent, is clearly doing that snort of a laugh she does when she’s amused, and turns to kiss Genji again, a goodbye this time. Her free hand guides his own to her stomach, and she bites her lip with clear excitement on her face. A third one on the way; Genji feels his heart warm at the thought. Kimiko turns and walks into the mist, leaving him alone.

Before he can move forward to join them, something rests in the middle of his chest and pulls him back. Looking down, Genji can see a hand made of pure shadow, with more reaching forward to rest on his body and aid the first hand. Struggling proves futile; Genji finds he can barely move. A heavy feeling of dread sits in his heart, and darkness replaces the mist.

A voice, the first sounds he’s heard, echoes from nowhere.

“Easy slut.”

Genji tries to gasp but finds that he can’t—he can’t breathe at all. Takeshi’s chin hooks over his shoulder, and his arms replace the shadow hands that grasped at him. He still can’t find the ability to struggle away. A hand is grabbing at his ass, and to his horror, Genji finds himself leaning into the touch.

“Better not tell my dear sister. We’re so lucky your clan hasn’t found out yet, hm?” Genji wants to jerk away, to strike, to run, but the man responsible for getting him disgraced will not release him. “Don’t fight it. We both know you want it. You’re disgusting. Only I can give you what you truly need.” These terrible thoughts ring louder and louder as the darkness shrouds him completely, choking him—

Genji is startled awake, unable to hold back his yelp as the truck driver beside him shakes him awake. Just a nightmare. Thank all the gods that ever were, it was just a nightmare.

“Whoa there son, settle yourself. We’re entering the city, you got a place I can drop you at?” The driver keeps his eyes to the road, but the concern on his face is obvious.

Rubbing his face, Genji tries to clear away his disorientation and think. “I… I do not. I need to find work, but I do not know where to go. I can not work in this country legally.” Genji grimaces as they delve into the city, underwhelming in the bright Nevada sun. There are a lot of half-naked women on display in advertising all around. Genji can only guess what work he’ll need to find to survive here.

Next to him, Donnie whistles low, tilting his head. “Well, I may know a place that could take you in. Not that I’m looking, but you’re a pretty guy, and I know a place that hires pretty people. And I’m pretty sure they ain’t looking for citizenship as a requirement.” Genji blinks, surprised.

“Really? A place like that, here?”

His surprise only doubles when the driver laughs, booming and loud. “Welcome to Las Vegas, son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My OW Tumblr: BaadBaadBlackSheep
> 
> I just noticed in chapter 1 I said there'd be an update by the next week omg I was AMIBITIOUS lol
> 
> I take prompts, I love to talk about LtR, I love feedback! Come find me.

**Author's Note:**

> So did Hanzo mark ya boi or what
> 
> I tend to rush important/action-y scenes so I hope that didn't all seem too sudden or short. 
> 
> Also, Genji is a flawed protagonist. You may not agree with his morals or actions but that's the point. 
> 
> I'd really appreciate comments or even a hello at my OW tumblr, BaadBaadBlackSheep. I don't get any feedback on my writing so I don't know how well or poorly I'm really doing at spinning a story, here. So please let me know!
> 
> Should be an update by next week. Comments and feedback would really help motivate me to get the next part finished up on time!


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